


Daddy’s Little Clown

by Wizard_of_Ozzie



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: "Little Love", Anal Fingering, Batjokes, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Diapers, Drinking Piss, Enemies to Lovers, Fellatio, Kinktober 2020, Lactation, Multi, Piss kink, Rimming, Wetting, shades of non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wizard_of_Ozzie/pseuds/Wizard_of_Ozzie
Summary: Arkham Asylum has assigned the Joker’s treatment to a world renowned doctor.  He has devised a new, radical treatment plan for the clown.  The treatment converts the Joker into a 6 foot tall one-year-old.  Bruce Wayne has agreed to take care of him at Wayne Manor.
Relationships: Batman/Joker, Bruce Wayne/Joker, Harley Quinn/Poison Ivy, Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 177
Kudos: 218





	1. Chapter 1

A long black limousine pulled up in front of Wayne Manor. Alfred exited the driver’s seat, pulling up his collar against the brisk November breeze. He walked over to the limo’s rear passenger door and placed his hand on the door handle, taking a deep breath. He needed a moment to compose himself. Against his better judgement, he had capitulated to Master Bruce’s demands. He had considered submitting his resignation, but he knew that would not stop Bruce from going forward without him. He also knew that if he left and things turned out as horribly as he feared, he would never forgive himself. So, there he stood, harsh disapproval lining his face, as he opened the car door.

It took Bruce a moment to make his way out of the car. His arms were full, and he was taking care not to jostle the large, blanket covered bundle he carried. Alfred wordlessly looked on, as Bruce stood up cradling the quiet form nestled in the baby blue blanket. The enormous blanket completely covered most of the bulky weight in Bruce’s arms, the only thing showing were two adult-sized, bootie-clad feet poking out the bottom. The manservant quickly turned away to open the manor’s front door. He held the door open, as Bruce stepped inside.

“I assume you can make your way to the nursery without my assistance.” Alfred said, trying hard to mask the disapproval in his voice. Bruce nodded mutely. Alfred took that as a cue and hurriedly returned to the limo, sliding into the passenger seat and driving off toward the garage.

Bruce walked through the mansion and up the stairway to the second floor. He walked down the corridor, stopping at the third door and stepping inside. He held the sleeping bundle in his arms and stood there a moment taking in the room’s bright, cheerful décor.

The walls were painted a pale shade of sky blue. One wall featured a mural depicting a scene from the Disney movie Bambi. The young deer was splayed out on an icy pond, his thin legs spread out flat on the ice. A laughing Thumper frolicking at his side. An oversized crib was placed perpendicular to the muraled wall and a mobile with fuzzy little farm animals hung over the crib. A full-sized bed with a matching Bambi-themed comforter stood against the opposite wall. An assortment of plush, stuffed animals littered the bed. A large toy box and sturdy wooden rocking horse sat in the middle of the lushly carpeted room.

The sound of a muffled sniffle reached Bruce’s ears and he opened the top of the blanket, revealing a chalk white face and a mop of wavy green hair. Bruce was relieved to see his ‘little’ guest still sleeping and peacefully sucking his thumb.

Two months earlier, Arkham Asylum…

Batman stood, in front of Dr. Einstein's desk, looking down at the seated bespectacled man. Dr. Einstein looked up at the Caped crusader with clear brown eyes that seemed to radiate with both warmth and intelligence.

“Please, have a seat.” The doctor said, gesturing toward the chair in front of his desk. Batman took the seat, silently studying the psychiatrist. The man’s silver-gray hair glistened softly under the harsh glow of the room’s fluorescent lights and his smile appeared genuine. “I want to thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I’m sure you’re a busy man.” Batman replied with a curt nod. “As you know, I have been treating patient 801, the Joker, for almost two months now. As you also know, he is quite a challenging case. He has never shown a sustained, positive response to any of our traditional methods of treatment. For this reason, I believe a new, nontraditional approach should be employed.”

“And how do I fit into this?” Batman asked. He already knew the answer, but Dr. Einstein had no way of knowing that. Batman wanted to make sure the story Dr. Einstein gave him matched the story he had previously given to Bruce Wayne.

“I firmly believe that the roots of the Joker’s pathology can be traced to events occurring during his infancy or early childhood. Numerous studies have shown that infants and toddlers that grow up without positive human contact or without a healthy caregiver relationship can develop serious, lifelong mental health issues. These mental health issues are often displayed through a lack of empathy, excessive violence and poor impulse control.”

“Well, those may be traits that the Joker exhibits, but I still don’t understand this new nontraditional treatment or my role in all this.” Batman said, shifting impatiently in his seat. 

“Your role will be to safeguard the individuals who will be responsible for the Joker’s new treatment plan. This plan will require the Joker to leave Arkham Asylum and be placed in a nurturing environment more conducive to his recovery. My treatment plan requires the Joker’s mind to be chemically regressed to an infantile, toddler-like state. In this state he will be like an adult-sized one-year-old. His physical strength will be greatly decreased, and his level of cognitive development will also be regressed. This regression will cause certain neuropathways to reopen and allow his brain synapses to be rewired in a way that promotes good mental health. 

This nurturing environment will involve a compassionate caretaker, who will provide appropriate physical contact and a consistent level of care. Bruce Wayne, a man with significant financial resources, has volunteered to provide this healthy environment. We would like you to cooperate with this arrangement by providing both security and tactical support for Mr. Wayne and his staff. Mr. Wayne is aware that the Joker has a unique physiology and that the chemical cocktail might not effectively subdue his homicidal tendencies; therefore, he is only interested in undertaking this project with your cooperation. Understandably, he has concerns for his and his staff’s personal safety.” Dr. Einstein paused a moment, pulling a sheet of paper from a file. “Are you willing to participate in this experiment?” The doctor handed Batman the piece of paper. “If so, you are required to sign this document releasing Arkham Asylum of any liability for your participation in this program.”

“If you truly believe your program has a reasonable chance of curing the Joker, I will agree to participate.” Batman said, lifting the release document and folding it into a square. A similar release had been provided to Bruce Wayne and Batman already knew the document would require some tweaking. “But I will not be signing this release without securing advice from legal counsel. I’ll get back to you with a definite response tomorrow.” Batman stood and extended a hand to Dr. Einstein. The two men shook on it.

Present day, Wayne Manor nursery…

Bruce sat on the bed still holding the Joker in his arms. Although he had seen the Joker unconscious many times, he was somewhat surprised to see how peaceful ‘little J’ looked while sleeping. There was an innocent child-like quality to his face, his red lips moving almost imperceptibly as he sucked his thumb. Bruce had little to no experience caring for a baby, but he had spent the last few weeks reading up on it. He knew reading books was a poor replacement for actual hands on experience, but he was committed to doing everything in his power to make this project a success.

Bruce leaned over to lay J across the bed. The moment he was laid down, J began to whine, his arms reaching out and grabbing at Bruce. Bruce, remembering the importance of physical contact to the treatment plan, laid on the bed next to him, throwing an arm around him. J made a soft cooing noise, scooting his body closer to the warmth of the adult. Bruce closed his eyes, exhaustion overtaking him, as he began to drift off.

Little J had no idea where he was, but he instinctively sought out the warmth of the big one lying beside him. He felt safe when he was embraced by the strong, vaguely familiar arms. He snuggled closer, relaxing and releasing a stream of urine into his diaper. The soft, fluffy diaper grew warm and cozy. He squirmed around in it, comforted by the squishy, wet heat. The big one held him closer, making soft shushing sounds. He liked the noises the big one made, and he especially liked being held tighter. He settled down, noisily sucking his thumb, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Alfred had spent the last few hours puttering around the mansion, engaged in a variety of make-work tasks. He dusted shelves and tables; he’d dusted the day before. He organized the cans in the pantry and wiped down the already spotless kitchen countertops. He knew what he was doing. Anything that would stop him from thinking about the manor’s newest guest. But it wasn’t working. 

He released a long weary sigh and glanced up at the kitchen clock. Nearly three hours had passed since they’d returned to the mansion and Alfred noticed he hadn’t heard a peep from Master Bruce or his latest project the whole time. Potential reasons for the long quiet period nagged at the back of his mind. None of the images conjured by his fertile imagination were pleasant. He knew he would have no peace until he checked it out for himself.

Alfred quietly opened the door to the nursery and peered inside. Huddled together on the bed, like a set of matching spoons, Master Bruce and his clown slumbered peacefully. He knew he should be relieved. After all, he hadn’t walked in on the blood-spattered walls he’d imagined only moments ago. Strangely, what he did see was also worrying in its own way. Bruce’s arm was draped around the sleeping villain, their bodies pressed together. The Joker was clutching a teddy bear to his chest, his snoring a soft hum. The city’s most dangerous psycho appeared far from threatening, dressed in a colorful striped, adult-sized onesie, his long pale legs curled up to his body. His normally bony butt, big and round, in the extra absorbency diaper.

Alfred cleared his throat. No reaction. He did it again, much louder this time. Bruce grunted softly, readjusting himself on the bed and flopping over onto his back. Bruce looked up at Alfred with bleary, sleep heavy eyes. He sat halfway up, leaning on his elbows.

“Alfred? Is anything wrong?” Bruce asked. _Yes!_ Alfred inwardly screeched. _I walked in here and found you spooning with a murderous madman!_ Alfred looked into Bruce’s questioning eyes and realized the man was waiting for an answer.

“No.” Alfred replied, trying to quell the irritation in his voice. “I merely wanted to check on you. To see if there was anything you required.”

A drowsy whimper rose from the bed, and the Joker rolled over, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s midsection and resting his head against the billionaire’s chiseled pecs. Bruce reflexively stroked the clown’s back, attempting to soothe him back to sleep. Alfred blinked twice, his face falling as he saw Bruce whispering quietly to the clown, his face partially buried in a mop of thick green hair. Bruce looked up, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second, as if he had forgotten Alfred was there.

“A—Al,” Bruce stammered, his fingers gently massaging the clown’s scalp. “He’ll probably wake up hungry. Would you mind fixing him a bowl of porridge?” Alfred exhaled loudly, his shoulders slumping, as he nodded in response to Bruce’s question. Bruce called out, as Alfred turned to leave. “Be sure to add plenty of honey and butter. Lil’ J has quite a sweet tooth.” He fondly added.

“Yes, Master Bruce.” Alfred wearily replied, turning and slowly trudging out of the room.

The Joker gurgled softly, nuzzling Bruce’s chest. Bruce found the baby-like sound endearing, a soft smile flickering across his lips. The Joker opened his eyes, peering up into Bruce’s face. Bruce stared back, his breath hitching in his throat. Sparkling green pupils looked up at him with awe and adoration. Bruce was taken aback by the wide-eyed innocence of the Joker’s gaze. He couldn’t see the slightest hint of malice or deceit. His chest tightened, as J reached up and tapped his lip with a finger.

J enjoyed looking up into the big one’s face. He liked his face, especially the mouth. He reached up and touched it. He giggled when the lips pursed and kissed his fingertip. He climbed into Bruce’s lap, his head resting in the crook of his caretaker's neck. He smiled as the big one wrapped his arms around him. He breathed in deeply, inhaling an oddly familiar scent. Calm and happy, a soothing warmth flooded his diaper. He grinned, relaxing in his nappy’s heated, comforting embrace.

Bruce flinched, a hot wetness spreading across his lap. He lifted J up and off his lap. He looked at his wet trousers and wanted to slap himself. _How did I forget to change his diaper? If it’s leaking, it must have been wet for a while._ He silently scolded himself. He set J on the bed, standing up and walking over to the dresser. He frantically started grabbing things. His arms full, as he carried a changing pad, a fresh diaper, wipes, powder, and lotion back to the bed.

J was sitting cross-legged on the bed, bouncing on his squishy diaper. His arms extended, hands reaching for Bruce. Bruce dropped the changing supplies onto the bed. He grinned, bopping the tip of J’s nose with his finger.

“OK, it’s time to change your dy-dee.” Bruce said, using his sweetest baby voice. J grabbed a handful of Bruce’s shirt, trying to pull him into a cuddle. Bruce found it remarkably easy to pull away. _Dr. Einstein was right about his reduced strength._ Bruce silently noted. He gently pushed J down on the bed, but he resisted trying to sit back up. “Now J, be a good boy and lay down, so Daddy can change your diaper.” Bruce’s entire body froze. _Daddy? Did I just say daddy?_

“Da Da.” Lil’ J cooed, kicking his legs in the air. Bruce gulped. _He hasn’t said a word since we’ve got here, but he sure did pick on that up right away._

Bruce placed his arm under J’s knees and lifted his butt off the bed, sliding the changing pad beneath him. He wrinkled his nose, pulling off the dripping diaper and tossing in a wastebasket. Bruce patiently cleaned his nether regions with some wipes. J giggled as Bruce cleaned his little ( _No, it’s not little!_ ) wee wee. Bruce carefully applied lotion and a liberal amount of baby powder, before putting on the fresh diaper. Bruce blew a raspberry on J’s tummy and he reacted with a delightful, child-like giggle. The bright cheerful laughter brought a smile to Bruce's lips. It was nothing like the Joker’s trademark evil cackle that Batman knew too well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your kind words and support!


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred had been standing in the doorway for over a minute, holding a tray with porridge and juice. He stood there, his mouth hanging open, as he watched Bruce blowing raspberries on the pale, rippled abdomen of a giggling Joker. The pair was having so much fun that they hadn’t noticed him. It was like they were in a world of their own. Alfred did not like this one bit. _Has Master Bruce forgotten! The man is a murderous maniac! This must stop!_

“MASTER BRUCE!” Alfred shouted, disgust and disapproval reverberating in his voice. Bruce looked up, a startled gasp leaping from this throat. The look on his face reminded Alfred of Bruce when he was a child. The time he caught him sneaking treats from the pantry before dinner. The Joker shrieked, burying his face in Bruce’s chest and grabbing his torso in a fierce hold. Bruce’s expression abruptly changed, anger flashing in his eyes.

“You frightened him!” Bruce said, wrapping his arms around the Joker in a protective embrace. “Put the tray on the dresser and go.” Alfred doesn’t move. He’s shocked by the tone of Bruce’s voice. He opened his mouth, a sharp retort forming on his lips. The Joker whimpered, visibly trembling in Bruce’s arms. Alfred’s mouth snapped shut. He banged the tray on the dresser, the juice sloshing in the glass. He turned and stormed out of the room.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s OK. He’s gone.” Bruce whispered, stroking the thin man’s back. A twinge of guilt tugged at Bruce’s gut. He wished he hadn’t spoken so sharply to Alfred. The manservant’s reaction, to what he walked in on, wasn’t really out of place. _I had my lips on Joker’s belly. Why?_ He asked himself. 

The Joker sniffled, looking up at Bruce with wide, wet eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Bruce’s chest tightened, the need to protect Lil’ J thrumming in his heart. Bruce couldn’t explain his reaction to the big green eyes staring up at him with trust and adoration. _I’m not behaving rationally._ The logical voice in his mind chided. _I can’t let myself get too attached. This is the JOKER!_ Bruce exhaled loudly, another thought rising to his mind. _But_ _I promised I would help him. If I don’t, who will…_ Bruce grabbed a fistful of his hair, his fingernails digging into his scalp. He groaned; his mind torn between conflicting goals.

“Sss, sss. K.” Lil’ J muttered, his hand clumsily rubbing Bruce’s back. Bruce blinked, unsure of what he heard. Then it hit him. _He’s trying to repeat what I said. He’s trying to comfort me!_ Bruce hugged J’s narrow frame, his indecision melting away. _I will help him. And it will make a difference!_ He decided, getting up to change his damp trousers.

A short time later…

Lil’ J looked on with wide-eyed curiosity, as Bruce lifted him and sat him down into the oversized highchair. Bruce pulled down the tray, locking it in place. He smiled, giving J a bop on the nose with his fingertip.

“I bet my little man is hungry.” Bruce said, turning to grab the bowl of porridge off the dresser and placing it on the highchair. J looked down at the still warm porridge and the sliced strawberries peppered across the top. Bruce turned to fetch the juice. Bruce frowned, seeing the glass of juice. “Oh, I’ll need to put this in a bottle. I don’t think you’re ready to drink out of a glass yet.”

Lil’ J was hungry and wished Da Da would hurry up. His eyes were drawn to the bright red strawberry slices. He stuck his hand in the bowl, grabbing a slice and stuffing it into his mouth. He grinned, chewing the sweet fruit, his hand and face smeared with porridge. Delighted with the taste, he shoved his other hand into the bowl, grabbing another piece of fruit. 

A few moments later, Bruce turned around, bottle of juice in hand and slapped his forehead. Both little J and the highchair’s tray were covered in porridge. It was quite the sight. Lil’ J had obviously stuffed his face with strawberries, his cheeks full and red juice trickling down the side of his mouth. The image brought a smile to Bruce’s face and he glanced down at the nearly empty bowl of porridge. There wasn’t a single strawberry slice left.

“No fair, you can’t just eat the fruit.” He told J with a chuckle. He scooped up a spoonful of porridge and placed it a J’s lips. J eagerly opened his mouth, taking the spoonful. The bowl was empty in no time flat. J bounced up and down in the highchair. He liked when Da Da fed him and wanted his fun to continue. Bruce picked up the bottle and stuck it in J’s mouth. J latched his lips around it, the cool sweet juice flowing into his mouth.

Bruce held the bottle as he suckled. He found himself staring at the Joker’s bright red lips as they clenched and puckered around the nipple. He felt something like a tingle in his gut as he saw the clown’s mouth at work on the nipple. His cheeks hollowing as he suckled. Bruce found the sight mesmerizing and couldn’t pull his eyes away. He gasped, embarrassed, as he felt his cock harden. The embarrassment quickly shifted to shame. _I shouldn’t be reacting like this!_ He worriedly told himself, yanking the bottle from J’s lips. J whimpered, reaching for the bottle.

“That’s enough for now.” Bruce said. “It’s time to get you cleaned up.” _I’m the one that needs to clean up my dirty mind._ He ruefully thought, returning the bowl and the bottle back to the dresser. J began crying behind him. He rushed over to his side, disengaging the tray and lifting J into his arms. J snuggled against him, his head on Bruce’s shoulder, his bootie-clad feet dangling at Bruce’s knees. He placed J on the bed, removing his onesie, booties and diaper. He was pleased to see the diaper was still dry. He lifted him back into his arms and J hugged him, wrapping his long legs around Bruce’s waist. 

“Let’s get you in the tub.” Bruce said, carrying him into the adjoining bathroom. Bruce turned on the tap and sat on the edge of the bathtub, waiting for it to fill. Naked, J sat straddling his lap and noisily sucking his thumb. Bruce found himself distracted by the wet, slurping sound only inches from his ear. Again, his body began reacting in a way it shouldn’t, and he looked in the tub, mentally willing it to fill faster. 

Bruce’s breath hitched in his throat, as he felt a warmth seeping into his crouch. Bruce had thrown on some jogging shorts and, in his haste, he’d gone commando. He sat there, his mouth falling open, as he felt the Joker’s hot urine drenching his cock. He sat, frozen in place, as his semi-stiff shaft swelled into an almost painful hard on. His breath quickened, the heated flow saturating his crouch and flowing down his legs. Bruce moaned, the pungent heat around his manhood fulfillment of a filthy fantasy. J must have also liked the feeling, because he began scooching in Bruce’s lap, rubbing his wee wee against the soft, warmed cotton of the jogging shorts clinging to Bruce’s cock. Bruce knew he should move, knew he should lift J from his lap, but he did neither of those things.

Within seconds, Bruce realized something unexpected about medicine J had received. It hadn’t age regressed all the functions of J’s anatomy. J’s large, swollen member nudged against Bruce’s. The sensation of their cocks rubbing together, snapped Bruce to his senses and he tried to lift J from his lap.

J refused to bulge, tightening his legs around Bruce, as he continued to hump against him, loudly sucking his thumb. The wet slurping sound combined with the thrusts at his crouch vanquished what little self-control Bruce retained. He sank his fingers into the soft flesh of the Joker’s buttocks, meeting the madman’s thrusts. A heat pooled deep in Bruce, his balls growing tight at the frenzy of their movements. A chorus of grunts and heavy breathing echoed in the small room.

J’s body shuddered against him, sweet garbled sounds bubbling from his lips. Bruce could feel the pulsating throbs of the cock pressed against his, as the Joker spurted between them. Bruce grabbed his pale ass pressing their bodies tight, milking J’s member for every exquisite drop. Bruce moaned, squeezing his eyes shut, his own release surging forth in hot, creamy waves of pulse-pounding pleasure.

J giggled, shifting in his lap and pulling Bruce from his post orgasmic haze. Bruce was mortified. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. Yet he couldn’t deny how deliriously delicious it had been. He hadn’t come from just humping since his teenage days. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the enthralling encounter. He glanced at the tub, thanking god for the overflow drain or it would have surely spilled over by now. He hurriedly turned off the tap.

“Time to get you cleaned up.” He announced, lifting J and setting him in the tub. He threw a rubber ducky into the water and J squealed with delight. J pushed the ducky underwater, letting go and laughing when it popped back to the surface. He did again, his laughter sweet, innocent and musical. Bruce watched him playing with the bright yellow toy and was hit by a fresh stab of guilt. _He’s just a baby. He’s incapable of giving informed consent. And I used his body for my own twisted needs. I’m a rapist…a pedophile._

Bruce rose on shaky legs, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyelids. Dr. Einstein’s words… _appropriate physical contact_ …rang in his head. _There was nothing appropriate about what I did!_ He cringed at the memory. _Maybe I should take him back to Arkham. He’s not safe with me. Maybe I should check myself in while I’m there. I’m sick, too. I’m a sexual predator._

“Oww!” Bruce exclaimed, his hand going to his head. He’d just been hit by the rubber ducky. He glanced at J. He was sitting in the tub looking up at him, laughing and kicking his feet. _Oh God, I forgot I was supposed to be giving him a bath!_ J grabbed the hem of his shorts and tugged. 

“Da Da!” He called out. Bruce pivoted to face him, his foot sliding on the wet floor as he moved. He looked down, finally noticing that he was standing, in a puddle of piss, wearing urine-soaked, cum-stained shorts. _Damn, I need to get my head out of my ass!_ He internally scolded himself. He grabbed J’s hand, gently pulling it from his shorts.

“OK J, I’ll be right with you. Let me clean up this mess.” Bruce said, giving his hand a tender squeeze and releasing it. Bruce started pulling towels from the rack, throwing them on the floor and wiping up the piss. When he finished, he stripped off his shorts and threw them on the floor with the wet towels. He picked up the soiled and sodden pile, tossing it in the hamper.

“Daaaa!” J cried, standing up and reaching for Bruce. Bruce lifted him by the armpits and sat him back down in the tub. J giggled, obviously happy to have Bruce’s attention again.

“Whoa little man, you’ve got to finish your bath!” Bruce said, one hand on J’s shoulder and the other grabbing a washcloth. He soaped up the rag and washed him, timidly cleaning his privates with a few brief swipes, making sure his hands didn’t linger. He lifted J from the tub, wrapping him a soft fluffy towel, and carrying him into the bedroom. J nuzzled against him, wrapping his legs around Bruce. Bruce’s body tensed uncomfortably, and he hurriedly laid him on the bed. He dashed across the room and grabbed a diaper. He got the diaper on in record time, anxious to cover that part of J’s anatomy. _Out of sight, out of mind._ He supposed, grabbing the half-finished bottle from the dresser. He put the bottle in J’s mouth and placed J’s hands around it, coaxing him to hold it on his own. He did, for a moment, but dropped it and started crying the moment Bruce walked away.

Lil’ J was on his back, screaming at the top of his lungs, his arms flailing and legs kicking in the air, a full-blown tantrum. He didn’t understand why Da Da was acting funny. _Why didn’t he kiss my tummy and make the happy noise? Why isn’t he hugging me?_ J was angry…and afraid. _Doesn’t he like me anymore?_ He wanted to be held by Da Da’s strong arms, pressed against his warm body. _Maybe we could play the huggy game again. It was fun. It made my wee wee feel good. Da Da liked it, too. Didn’t he?_

If Lil’ J was able to fully comprehend the concept of love in his regressed state, he’d say he loved Da Da. Da Da was special. Lil’ J felt like he’d known Da Da forever. He was always happy when Da Da would visit him at the other place. They would play and Lil’ J laugh and have fun. He was the only good thing about the other place. Lil’ J didn’t like it there. It was cold. The lights were too bright. And there weren’t any pretty colors.

Bruce was about to press the button on the intercom and contact Alfred, when he heard the shrill screeching cries coming from Lil’ J. The sound yanked at something deep inside him and squeezed. He ran back to the bed, gently grabbing Lil’ J’s arms and pulling up him into a sitting position.

“What is it, J? You OK?” Bruce said, the sweetness in his voice laced with anxiety. J threw his arms around Bruce, his cries petering out into soft whimpers as he buried his face in Bruce’s chest. Bruce leaned forward, patting him on the back and snatching his bottle off the bed. With more than a tad of trepidation, Bruce pulled him onto his lap and offered him the bottle. Bruce was still naked, and he shifted J’s diapered bottom closer to his knees and further from his crouch. Bruce placed the bottle in J’s mouth and he immediately started sucking, humming contentedly. 

Bruce pondered over the earlier episode in the bathroom, as J drank. He couldn’t understand his shameful behavior. Couldn’t fathom his total lack of control. But Bruce knew he wasn’t being totally honest. _I need to quit lying to myself._ He privately chided. _I’ve been repressing my attraction to the Joker for years. There’s just something about him…the way his body moves, fast and flexible as a jungle cat. Then there’s those lips…oh God those lips…red and fleshy, like a succulent yet forbidden fruit._ Bruce looked down at J nursing, watching how his mouth pulled and tightened around the bottle’s nipple. He quickly looked away, closing his eyes and squeezing them tight. But blocking the sight from his eyes did nothing to dispel the image from his mind.

J was ecstatic to be back in Da Da’s arms, his head leaning on his chest. He was comforted by the sound of his caretaker’s heartbeat. Thump thump…thump thump. It was like a lullaby, gently serenading him to sleep. He closed his eyes, a warm soothing trickle of urine seeping into his diaper, as he snored softly around the nipple at his lips.

Bruce noticed Lil’ J growing limp in his arms. He gently pulled the bottle from his mouth. He picked him up, bridal style, and carried him to his crib. He laid him down, pulling a blanket over his sleeping body. _He looks so peaceful, so innocent._ Bruce mused, his innate protective streak surging to the fore. _He’s been entrusted to my care and I must keep him safe. Even if that means keeping him safe from me._


	3. Chapter 3

Less than two hours later…

Half asleep, Lil’ J squirmed around under the warm blanket, trying to get comfortable despite the cold, wet diaper wrapped around his middle. Irritated, he wrinkled his nose at the faint scent of disinfectant lingering in the air. His heart started beating faster. The smell reminded him of the other place…the bad place where they poked him with needles and tied him down with straps. His eyes snapped open and he gasped with fear, his body trembling, as he stared at the white bars directly in front of his face. 

Bruce had just finished mopping the bathroom floor when he heard the shriek from the adjoining room. He dropped the mop and ran into the nursery, hurrying to the crib where the Joker sat screaming in a piss-soaked diaper. Bruce quickly dropped the bars and handrail on one side of the crib and scooped the Joker out, a grimace passing across his face as a wet diaper met his bare torso. He hugged the Joker tighter, nonetheless, rubbing circles into his back and whispering soft shushing noises in his ear. Bruce had no idea that the sight of the crib’s bars and the smell of disinfectant had triggered frightening memories of Arkham Asylum in J. But there was no way Bruce would have known, because if the medicine had worked as intended J would have no memories of his life before treatment.

Juggling J on his hip, Bruce grabbed the changing pad and a fresh diaper from the dresser. Fortunately, J’s cries had subsided into little more than a few whiny breaths, as Bruce lowered him onto the changing pad. Bruce sat on the side of the bed and sighed; wiping sweat from his brow. Taking care of a man-sized infant was no walk in the park and Bruce worried that he might have bitten off more than he could chew. His confidence plummeted even further as he opened the diaper and noticed the redness around J’s privates. _Oh god! I’ve only had him one day and he’s already starting to get a rash!_ Bruce lamented, realizing he’d need to apply some diaper rash cream.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Bruce said, gently pressing his hand on J’s stomach, as he started to stand.

“Da Da!” J cried, grabbing Bruce’s wrist. Bruce hesitated, glancing over at the dresser where the diaper ointment was kept. It was less than a dozen steps away from the bed. He looked back at J, seeing large pleading green eyes and long white fingers encircling his wrist. He knew he could snatch his hand away, but he didn’t. He worried that wresting his wrist from J’s hand was too harsh. Too reminiscent of their past encounters together. Things were different now. It was important for him to be gentle and patient. So, he laid down on the bed next to him.

He lifted his hand, his fingertips still on J’s tummy. His fingers walked across the man’s pale, chiseled torso and he tickled his ribs. J giggled, squirming and releasing Bruce’s wrist. Bruce continued tickling him, now using both hands. There was something delightful about the sweet, tinkling sound of J’s childlike laughter. It reminded Bruce of sleigh bells and joyful, happy times. J wrapped his arms around his body, trying to cover his wiggling torso and escape Bruce’s tickles. Bruce laughed and stood up, J still laughing on the bed beneath him. He hurriedly grabbed the diaper ointment and some wipes.

He turned back to the bed and saw that J was sitting up, his legs open and crossed at the ankle. Bruce sat on the bed next to him. J leaned over and wrapped his arms around Bruce’s shoulders, his head resting against his Da Da’s neck. The smell of baby shampoo wafted from his hair and Bruce nuzzled his nose in the soft green locks, stroking J’s back. Bruce smiled, taking a minute to enjoy their special moment together. He couldn’t remember how many times he had dreamed of a moment like this…the Joker, warm and docile in his arms. He didn’t want to let go, but he did.

“C’mon fella, time to get you clean and dry.” Bruce said softly, easing J back down on the bed. He carefully cleaned J with a baby wipe, taking extra care with his soft, wrinkled penis, making sure he got the areas where the foreskin folded. Bruce’s mouth fell open, as he saw the Joker’s wee wee begin to harden at his touch. 

_Alrighty then,_ _I guess it’s clean enough_. Bruce abruptly decided, yanking his hand away. Forcing himself to look away from the Joker’s sizable package, he snatched the tube of diaper cream off the bed and began reading the directions. Unfortunately, the one sentence direction _(Apply liberally to affected areas_ ) didn’t provide much of a distraction and the thought rubbing the cream on Joker, in his aroused state, had Bruce biting his lip in a troubling mix of dread and desire. _Just get it over with._ He tersely told himself, squeezing ointment across his fingertips. He turned to Lil’ J and gulped, his eyes bulging from their sockets.

“Holy shit!” Bruce muttered at the sight of Lil’ J’s clenching hand slowly moving up and down his fully erect penis. He’d read that sometimes babies play with their parts, but no baby book could prepare him for the sight of a 9-inch, vein engorged cock being stroked by a long-fingered white hand. J was lying back on the bed, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted; deep-throated, breathy grunts falling from his lips. A glistening bead of pre-cum rose from the tip. Bruce unconsciously licked his lips, as the drop fell and slowly rolled down the thick shaft. The noises erupting from J’s throat grew louder, his hand moving up and down faster. 

Bruce just sat there, transfixed by the spectacle. A little voice in the back of Bruce’s head shouted, _DO SOMETHING! MAKE HIM STOP!_ But Batman, with his razor-sharp mind and lightning fast reflexes, was too stunned to move. Bruce was incapable of tearing his eyes away and his cock switched beneath his boxers. Without thinking, he touched himself. He immediately regretted it, as diaper cream squished between his fingers and smeared his cotton undies. This snapped him from his trance. Bruce, cursing his stupidity, rose to his feet and grabbed a wipe to clean his fingers. He grimaced, trying to remove the thick greasy ointment from his hand.

A high-pitched, keening sound caught Bruce’s attention and his eyes darted to the Joker. He was looking at Bruce, staring directly into his eyes; his hand moving furiously up and down his glistening rod. Bruce was unnerved by the intensity of the Joker’s gaze. His eyes, emerald green pools, locked and loaded on Bruce, dragging him into their depths; wordlessly demanding his attention. Bruce shuddered, as a passion-fueled moan slid from quivering red lips and pearly ropes of cum shot from a long, alabaster cock.

Bruce stood in tented boxers, as J grew silent and his body went limp on the bed. Bruce was shaken. He couldn’t get the image of what he’d just seen out of his head. It was more arousing than any porno flick he’d ever seen. The way the Joker had looked at him, as if he wanted Bruce to watch. Bruce fought the urge to wrap his fingers around his erection and stroke himself. He imagined how it would feel to spill his seed atop the pale body lying on the bed. His cock throbbed at the thought. Bruce squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to dispel the image from his mind.

Bruce opened his eyes at the sound of childlike giggles. J was sitting up on the bed, holding the tube of ointment. He squeezed it and a stream of cream shot out, landing on his chest. Bruce gasped; the white stripe on J’s torso far too similar to the fantasy he had moments ago. J giggled, squeezing the tube again and bouncing in delight, as another line of cream hit his body. Bruce lost it, shoving his hand to his boxers and freeing his dick. He stroked frantically at his throbbing beast, panting loudly. It felt so good. He could hardly remember when he had been so excited. He closed his eyes, his entire body consumed by the thrilling sensations coursing through his cock.

J stared wide-eyed at his Da Da. He dropped the tube of ointment and crawled across the bed. He got to the edge of the bed and sat down, his legs hanging off the side. He gazed up at the tall man standing in front of him. Da Da had closed his eyes and wasn’t looking at him anymore. Not being the center of Da’s attention made an icky feeling grow in the pit of his stomach. He was on the verge of crying, his bottom lip trembled. He heard Da Da moan and became even more frightened. He rose to his knees, his arms outstretched, silently begging to be picked up and hugged. Bruce’s moans grow louder, and J opened his mouth to call to him. But before he could utter a single sound, something warm and wet spattered his face and chest.

The world went white for Bruce, as his body spasmed in the throngs of an intense orgasm. His toes curling, as his cock pulsed out gob after glorious gob of thick ejaculate. Bruce sighed deeply, as his eyes slowly opened, and the world came back in focus around him. Bruce gasped, nearly jumping out of his skin in surprise, at seeing Lil’ J sitting on the edge of the bed less than a foot from where he stood. J appeared equally shocked, his eyes wide and mouth forming an O. Bruce was too stunned to speak. He looked at J’s face and the glistening stripes of cum on his nose, cheek, and chin. _Oh god it’s even in his hair!_ Bruce cringed at what he had done, while something deep inside him was sated by the sight. _I marked him…he’s mine._ Bruce pushed the odd notion aside, unwilling to explore the dark corner of his mind from which it sprang. He focused his attention on J instead. His pale arms were reaching out to Bruce. Bruce immediately leaned over, pulling J into his arms and hugging him tightly.

“Oh, I’m sorry baby!” Bruce said, sitting down on the bed and pulling J into his lap. He slowly rocked J in his arms. “I—I don’t know what came over me. Please forgive me.” J rested his head on Bruce’s shoulder, sticking his thumb into his mouth with a contented hum. Bruce kept rocking his baby boy, gently rubbing his back. Bruce smiled, as J wrapped an arm around him and began stroking his back, imitating Bruce. 

They stayed like that for a while, holding and rocking each other; warm and comfortable in their shared embrace. J shifted slightly and Bruce was startled by the cool sensation of diaper cream on his torso. Reminded of the need to clean his baby up, Bruce lifted J from his lap. The little fella whimpered at the loss of contact and Bruce kissed his forehead.

“It’s OK sweetie, we’re just going to the bathroom so I can wash you up.” Bruce said, picking J up and carrying him on his hip. J farted with a loud trumpet-like blast, giggling at the sound. The smell had Bruce fanning his hand in front of his face. “Hmm, maybe we need to hurry to the bathroom.”

Bruce rushed into the bathroom and sat J on the toilet. While he was grabbing a washcloth, he heard a muffled plop-splash in the toilet bowl. If there was any doubt about the splash in the toilet, the odor permeating the room made it perfectly clear. Bruce grinned widely. _Yeah, I dodged the bullet this time. One less poopy diaper to change!_

“Well, I guess we timed that perfectly.” Bruce said, ruffling J’s hair with his hand. A second, louder splash echoed in the bowl. “That’s my good baby, using the potty like a big boy!” Bruce cheerfully exclaimed. He bent over and kissed J’s cheek with a loud smack. J was positively beaming from the compliment, his face bright and smiling.

“Da Da goo baybay!” J said, happily tapping his toes on the floor.

“Yes, you’re daddy’s good baby.” Bruce replied, giving him a bop on the nose. 

Several hours later…

The setting sun streamed through the window, casting an orange glow in the room. Bruce sat in the rocking chair, watching J construct a tower of blocks. Bruce smiled indulgently, his heart swelling at the sight of his baby J’s plump rump sitting on the floor, sucking his pacifier in his footed, fleece onesie. 

The two of them had enjoyed a relaxing afternoon together, getting to know each other. Bruce had learned that J was able to stand and walk, as long as he had something to lean on for support. J learned that his daddy had the most beautiful smile in the world. A smile that not only spread his lips but lit up his eyes and made crinkles form at their corners. A smile that made J all warm and gooey inside.

They’d shared lunch. Bruce cutting J’s sandwich into small bite-size pieces and feeding them to him, one by one. J opening his mouth like a baby bird, waiting for daddy to fill it. Then there was story time. Bruce would read and J would turn the pages. Sometimes J would point to a picture and daddy would tell him its name. J would parrot his words and daddy smiled every time. And they cuddled…lots and lots of sweet, innocent cuddling. J appeared to love nothing more than being held in his daddy’s arms. 

Bruce chuckled when J added yet another block to the top of his already leaning tower and the whole thing came tumbling down. J giggled, clapping his hands, not the least bit upset about his toppled tower. He crawled over to Bruce and raised his arms, silently begging to be picked up. Bruce helped him to his feet and sat him down on his lap, letting his long legs dangle over the armrest. 

J immediately wrapped an arm around Bruce, snuggling against his chest. A warmth spread through Bruce’s body. He hadn’t felt as loved or needed in a long time and the experience filled an empty chasm deep within him. He rested the side of his face on J’s soft, wavy hair and slowly rocked the chair. Bruce closed his eyes, a smile on his face as he enjoyed the precious, tender moment. A couple of minutes later, J’s diaper clad bottom was squirming in Bruce’s lap. J whimpered softly around the pacifier still in his mouth.

“What’s the matter, lil’ fella?” Bruce asked, his finger gently lifting J’s chin. J continued to squirm, reaching down to pull at the diaper beneath his P J’s. “Duh, you’re wet.” Bruce said slapping his forehead. “Well, let’s take care of that.” Bruce helped J to his feet. Hooking their arms together, Bruce lead him to the bed and got him situated above the changing pad. 

He pulled down the long zipper on the onesie, not stopping until he reached the end at J’s ankle. He carefully pulled J’s legs from the garment, noticing that it was slightly moist where the fabric met the edge of his diaper. Bruce frowned, experiencing a pang of guilt. _I waited too long to change him…again._ Bruce silently fretted, removing the thoroughly soaked diaper. He gently wiped his baby’s private parts, making sure to clean all the creases. J whined, as he touched the red, irritated areas. Bruce’s heart clenched at the sound. Bruce applied diaper cream, hoping the cool ointment would soothe him. He spread his butt cheeks, relieved to see the redness did not extend that far. 

He applied cream there, his finger lingering as it touched J’s pink, puckered hole. His fingertip slowly massaged the tight ring of muscles. J gurgled happily, the sound sending sparks of delight through Bruce. Bruce did not realize he was massaging so deeply until the tip of his finger slipped inside the tight warmth. J gasped, his muscles involuntarily clenching around the intrusion. Bruce was inside him up to the cuticle, his fingernail no longer visible. Bruce glanced up a J’s face, he was lying back, his eyes closed, the pacifier bobbing in his mouth. His eyes flicked to J’s previously shriveled member. It was now long and plump on his abdomen.

Bruce knew he should pull his hand away, but the sensation of the hot, fluttering hole around his fingertip, was mesmerizing. One moment it would grip his finger tightly, squeezing for all it was worth; the next moment it would relax, as if it were silently urging Bruce to probe deeper. The push and pull continued, his ass like a tiny mouth hungrily sucking Bruce’s digit. J started scooching downward, slowly taking in more of Bruce’s finger. The first knuckle of Bruce’s finger disappeared inside the clenching heat. That and the sweet noises bubbling from J’s throat, sent blood rushing to Bruce’s cock.

“ _MASTER BRUCE.”_ Alfred called out over the intercom. Bruce gasped, yanking his finger from J’s body. J yelped at its rude and swift departure. Bruce cringed at the sound, praying he hadn’t hurt him. He pulled J into his arms.

“Sorry baby. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking!" Bruce said, his voice a guilty whisper, as he rocked J, gently stroking his back. The lie he just told only intensified his guilt. He knew exactly what he'd been thinking. For years, he had fantasized about seeing that pert, pink hole…about being buried balls deep inside it. His cock throbbed at the thought and he hated himself even more.

“ _MASTER BRUCE.”_ Alfred called out again. “The new nanny is here. I’m bringing her up now.”


	4. Chapter 4

Bruce lifted J from the bed and hurried to the intercom, pressing the talk button.

“Alfred, could you give me a few minutes before you bring her up. I’m in the middle of a diaper change and I’d like to put on something more presentable.” Bruce glanced down at the wife beater and jogging shorts he was wearing. “Maybe you could show her around first.”

“As you wish Master Bruce.” Alfred replied with a weary sigh.

Alfred cast an appraising glance at the buxom brunette, standing at his side. She appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties, but it was hard to tell with the heavy makeup she was wearing. She was dressed in what he imagined served as a nursing uniform these days, royal blue scrubs with a zip front and matching pants. Her large blue eyes peered at him beneath the rose-colored lenses of her wire framed glasses. He noted that she was a tiny thing, no taller than 5 foot 4. He doubted if she weighed more than 110 soaking wet. He wondered if she had any idea what she was getting herself into. He was going to find out. 

“As you heard, Master Bruce would prefer if we gave him a little time before we go upstairs. Why don’t you come into the kitchen with me and have a spot of tea.” She nodded mutely in response, following him into the kitchen. ’

A short time later, they were sitting in the small dining room adjacent to the kitchen. _She’s a quiet one._ Alfred silently pondered. _I don’t think she’s spoken more than five words since she got here._

“So, tell me Ms. Jones, how much has Mr. Wayne told you about the position you have accepted?” She was in the midst of sipping her tea when he asked and placed her cup back on the saucer before responding.

“I received a complete briefin’ from Dr. Einstein before I accepted the position and Mr. Wayne answered any other questions I had. I was a nurse at Arkham Asylum and I’ve interacted with patient 801 both before and after his treatment. I guess I was one of the few nurses that never got on his bad side and I assume that’s why Dr. Einstein recommended me for this assignment.” She took another sip from her tea. Alfred noticed the southern drawl in her voice.

“But you do know, his bad side can be very _very_ bad?”

“Don’t worry about me Mr. Pennyworth. I’m walkin’ into this with my eyes wide open.”

“That’s reassuring to hear Ms. Jones but do be careful. And please, call me Alfred. If you ever feel uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you, Alfred. I will be careful. I promise. And I’d like it if you would call me Lee.” She smiled, her blue eyes twinkling. Alfred returned her smile, struck by how pretty she was, despite her rather bulbous nose. 

“Alfred, you can bring her up now.” Bruce’s voice echoed from the intercom.

Alfred and Lee entered the nursery. Lee stopped, just within the threshold and looked around, taking in the well-appointed room. Bruce walked up to her, one hand extended, the other clutching J to his hip.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting Ms. Jones.” Bruce said, as they shook hands.

“No problem Mr. Wayne. After all, I’m already on the clock.” She giggled softly at her own joke, the sound striking Bruce with a vague sense of déjà vu. “Aww, you’re shy.” She said, directing her words to J, his face nuzzled into Bruce’s shoulder. “Don’t you remember me? Nurse Lee?” She gently placed a hand on his shoulder and he immediately snuggled closer to Bruce.

J stole a peek at the brunette woman, his grip on Bruce still firm. He examined her face, her bright blue eyes, and smiling lips. There was something familiar and comforting about her. The tension drained from his body and he relaxed in Bruce’s arms. He heard the big ones talking, an occasional laugh here and there. He pretty much tuned them out, still staring at the woman with the big blue eyes. His gaze fixed on her nose. It seemed wrong, but he had no idea why.

Da Da placed him down on the edge of the bed and turned away to face the woman. _No Da Da! Want Da Da!_ His childlike mind screamed, his arms reaching out with grabby hands, as he whined loudly. All three adults turned in his direction. 

The lady with the friendly eyes grasped his hands. Her touch was soft and warm. She bent over, kissing his forehead, and sitting on the bed next to him. J looked into her face and reached for her nose. She caught his hand and gently kissed his fingertips. Her lips were soft and warm too. J giggled at the nice lady. Da Da sat down in the rocking chair. J could see Da looking at him and that made him happy. He was safe if Da was watching. Da loves J. He just knows. J looked up at the sound of the meanie man clearing his throat.

“I’m going downstairs to prepare tonight’s meal.” Alfred announced, he turned to leave but stopped short. “Ms. Jones, er Lee, I forgot to ask. Do you have any food allergies?”

“Nah, not me. Gotta cast iron stomach.” Lee chuckled, patting her belly. Bruce bristled at the sound of her laughter. He couldn’t understand his reaction, but it nagged at him, nonetheless. He glanced at J. He was giggling and patting his tummy. _Mimicking HER!_ Bruce knew seeing that shouldn’t upset him. But it did.

The sound of a loud fart ripped from J’s bowels. Bruce rose from the rocking chair, but Lee was closer and faster. She helped J to his feet, her arm going around his waist to steady him.

“I think somebody needs potty.” Lee said, playfully poking J in the belly with her finger. J giggled, swaying slightly on his wobbly legs. Lee took hold of the much taller man’s wrist and flung it over her shoulder to give him more support. 

Bruce stood there, uselessly, as he watched her walking _his_ baby into the bathroom. _I should offer to help._ Bruce decided, walking toward the bathroom. Bruce stopped short, as the door closed. _Why is she closing the door?_ Bruce wondered, fighting the urge to bang on the door and demand entrance. He heard the exhaust fan clicking on. Bruce had to admit that closing the door while someone was pooping wasn’t unusual. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. He grabbed J’s teddy and returned to the rocking chair, hugging the plush toy in his arms.

Lee pulled J’s arms from the onesie, letting the garment pool around his ankles, as she removed his diaper. Her hands on his hips, she guided his butt to the toilet seat. She carefully tucked his wee wee down toward the toilet bowl, just as he let another one rip. She wrinkled her nose and laughed. 

“Phew! What have they been feeding you?” She pinched her nostrils, making a silly face. “Oops, I forgot about the fake nose.” She glanced at herself in the mirror, smiling when she saw nothing was out of place. _This may be a first rate, custom prosthetic, but I still need to be careful._ She reminded herself.

J grabbed a handful of her smock and tried to rise from the toilet. “No no, you stay right there.” She gently put her hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. He grunted and she ran her fingers through his hair. The sound of a muffled splash echoed beneath him, followed by the tinkle of his piss hitting the water. “That’s it Puddin. Let it all out.” Harley whispered, her lips nearly touching his ear.

She flushed the toilet, the click of her locking the door drowned out by the sound of the flush. She bent over, pulling down her slacks and panties and kicking them from her feet. She straddled J’s lap, her clit at the base of his cock. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head in his chest.

“I’ve missed you so much Mistah J.” Her voice was somewhere between a moan and a whine, as she rubbed her clit against him. Another log splashed in the water beneath them. “Good boy.” She mumbled, rubbing circles into his back, as she rocked back and forth. Delicious tingles ran through her body, the nub of flesh between her thighs swollen and blood engorged. She stopped moving, their bodies still pressed together. She grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look into her face.

“What’s your name?” Her words more of a command than a question. He tried to look away and she tightened the grip on his chin. “What’s. Your. Name.” He looked back at her, his eyes wide, his bottom lip trembling. He was on the verge of tears. Harley exhaled sharply, letting go of his chin and shaking her head. _Damn! This is going to be harder I thought._ She realized, biting her lip. _Maybe we should take a trip down memory lane together._ She closed her eyes, her brow furrowing in concentration. She sighed, releasing her bladder.

J gasped when the strong, hot stream of urine hit the base of his cock. The warm wetness flowed down his shaft and his wee wee twitched with pleasure. He hummed with happiness. It was sooo gooood! Then it stopped. He wanted more! Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around her. His fingers dug into the soft globes of her ass, spreading her cheeks, pulling her closer. He heard her grunt softly. His mouth fell open, as a fresh gush of hot piss coated his cock and rolled down his balls. His body quivered beneath her, his throbbing shaft bobbing in the flow of her wicked wetness. It stopped again. J whined.

“What’s your name?” He didn’t answer. He didn’t understand what she wanted. But he knew what he wanted. He thrust up with his pelvis, using his body to convey what he lacked the words to say.

Harley jumped at the sound of a knock on the door, involuntarily releasing a flood of her hot, golden juices. J moaned loudly as the heat cascaded over his cock and Harley slapped her hand over his mouth.

“Is everything OK in there?” Bruce asked, turning the doorknob. “Why is the door locked?” Harley heard the irritation in his voice.

“Everything’s fine, just had a little accident and I needed to take off my pants and clean them. I didn’t want you to walk in on me while I was in my panties. Just give me a few minutes, we’ll be right out.”

“Oh, uh all right.” Bruce replied, sounding a tad embarrassed. Harley, her bladder finally empty, waited until she heard his footsteps retreating. She pulled her hand off the Joker’s mouth and gave him a quick kiss. She picked her pants up off the floor and placed one leg in the sink, wetting it under the tap. 

“Damn, I really thought I’d jog his memory with a little water sports. It always perked him up in the past.” Harley mumbled under her breath, squeezing the excess water from her pants leg with a towel. “Maybe if that nosy buzzkill Wayne hadn’t interrupted…” 

J whined, looking up and Harley, then down at his dick. “Sorry Puddin. I hate to leave you hanging, but we’ll need to finish up later.” Harley grabbed a washcloth and ran cold water over it. She applied the cold compress to J’s privates. He flinched at the cold, but Harley held in place until he was limp and flaccid down there. “That’s better. It won’t do for you to go walking out of here with a big boner.” She whispered, giving J a quick peck on his cheek. “And don’t worry Mistah J, I’m not giving up until you get your memory back.” 

Several minutes later, Lee and a buck-naked J walked out of the bathroom. Bruce blinked; unsure he was really seeing right. He leapt up from the rocking chair.

“Wh-where are his clothes?” Bruce stammered, staring at the pair in disbelief. Lee giggled.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” She said, helping J to the bed. Once he was seated, she turned back to Bruce. “Like I said, there was an accident.” She lifted her damp pants leg. “He got me, too.”

“His P J’s are in the bottom drawer.” Bruce said, pointing at the dresser. Harley nodded and walked over to the dresser, opening the drawer. She pulled out a brightly colored top and put it on J. She sat down on the bed next to J and looked up at the large flat screen TV on the wall.

“Do you mind if I turn on the TV?” She asked Bruce. He looked at her, his mouth hanging open and brow furrowed.

“Aren’t you going to put his diaper on?” He asked.

“Nah, he’s all red and irritated down there. Fresh air’s the best remedy for diaper rash.” She stated matter-of-factly, picking up a stuffed monkey from the bed and bouncing it on J’s knee. J cooed with delight, grabbing the toy. Bruce pursed his lips, hearing an unspoken accusation in her words.

“But what if he uh, has another accident?”

“I got it covered. I synched our bladders.” Lee said, grabbing a stuffed banana and pretending to feed it to the monkey. “Yummy yum yum!” She sang, grinning into J’s smiling face.

“You what?” Bruce said, scowling. He’d never heard of such a thing. Lee turned in his direction.

“I synched our bladders. After he did number one, I did number one. So, the next time I feel the need to go, I take him to the toilet and make him go first. Then I go. We stay synched, he stays dry and the diaper rash heals.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense.” Bruce rubbed his chin, his lips tight. “What about number two.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for his nonverbal cues, farts, grunts, y’know. And if there are any accidents, I’ll clean them up. After all, what’s more important clean linens or baby J’s health and comfort.” She said, giving Bruce a pointed look. Bruce nodded mutely, deciding it might be better to pick his battles. Bruce’s phone vibrated on his belt. He looked at the screen. _It’s Gordon. I better take this._ He decided.

“Excuse me, I need to take this call. I’ll be back shortly.” Bruce said, heading for the door. J looked up and saw Bruce walking toward the door.

“Da Da!” J wailed, climbing to the edge the bed, his arms outstretched. Lee grabbed him by the waist, pulling him back.

“Aww baby, don’t cry Dada comin’ right back.” Lee said, trying to sooth him. J tried to break free, kicking and flailing in her arms. 

Bruce was standing in the doorway, reluctant to leave. _Looks like Miss Nanny know-it-all’s got her hands full._ Bruce smirked, watching Lee struggle with a rambunctious J.

“DAAAAA! DAAAA!” J screamed, reaching out for his daddy. His needy, pain-filled cry tugged at Bruce’s heart like a puppet master’s strings. He shoved his phone in his pocket and rushed over to J, leaning down to wipe the tears from his face.

“Be daddy’s big boy. I’ll be right back. I promise.” Bruce said, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. J looked up at him with big, weepy eyes, lifting his arms.

“Pwease Da Da!” J begged, getting up on his knees and wrapping his arms around Bruce’s waist. Something inside of Bruce melted, replaced by a warm glow. He lifted J by his armpits and pulled him up from the bed. Holding J against his chest, his forearm cradling his bum, Bruce carried him out of the room.

Harley leaned back on the bed, her hands beneath her head and legs crossed, a lopsided grin on her face. _He’s got Brucie wrapped around his little finger and it’s only been one day. That might be a new record…_


	5. Chapter 5

Wide-eyed and curious, J took in all the little details of the long hallway. A brightly colored bouquet atop a sturdy accent table, portraits of unsmiling faces in ornate frames, statuettes perched in lighted alcoves streamed past his eyes, as daddy carried him down the corridor. They stopped at a closed door. Daddy opened it, carrying him inside. 

The room was a stark contrast from the nursery. The muted spectrum of grays, black and white cast an austere, bleak atmosphere throughout the room. J clutched at Bruce more tightly, hands crumpling his starched cotton shirt. Bruce reciprocated by holding him closer and J smiled around the thumb stuck in his mouth. He breathed in the scent of his daddy’s rich and woodsy cologne. It made him feel warm and safe. 

Bruce sat on the edge of the bed; J cradled in his arms. J was jostled slightly when Bruce dug into his pocket and retrieved his phone. J glanced at the glowing object in daddy’s hands. He reached out to touch it. Bruce gently pulled his hand away, kissing his fingertips.

“Sorry fella, my phone is not a toy.” A playful edge tinged Bruce’s calm and patient voice. “Now I need you to be quiet, so I can make a call.” Bruce kissed the crown of J’s head, his breath a soothing caress. J had no idea what his daddy was talking about, but he was safe and cozy in daddy’s strong arms and nothing else mattered. His eyelids grew heavy, his body going limp in his daddy’s warm embrace. He barely heard the taps of Bruce’s fingers on the phone, as he drifted off to dreamland.

J’s eyes popped open. _Who was that!_ He’d heard a voice. _Is someone else in here?_ His head swiveled from left to right, his eyes darting across the room. He looked up at daddy, his thumb falling from his gaping lips. The strange, new voice was coming out of Da Da’s mouth. He didn’t understand. Why was daddy’s voice growl-like and gruff? He sounded like a different person. But he also sounded vaguely familiar. There was something about that voice that made sparks of excitement run down his spine. _Darling!_ J had no idea why that word popped into his mind. He smiled when he heard that deliciously dark and gravelly voice saying, ‘Goodbye Jim’. He watched daddy put his phone away.

Daddy looked down at him with soft, fond eyes, a hint of a smile on his face. J placed his hand on daddy’s cheek, the stubble tickling his fingertips. Daddy leaned into his touch and kissed his palm, his lips whisper soft on his skin. He leaned over and kissed his daddy back, right on the mouth. Just a quick peck and he drew back, hiding his face in the crook of daddy’s neck. He didn’t understand why he’d done it, only that he’d wanted to…needed to. He heard daddy chuckle lightly, his fingertip beneath J’s chin, coaxing him to look up.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

_He’s adorable!_ Bruce thought, as J looked at him with huge, green, puppy dog eyes. He bent over to place a kiss on the tip of J’s nose, just as J looked up and their lips met. Although the kiss was unexpected, neither one of them moved away. The kiss was chaste, yet warm and comforting, their lips barely moving as they were pressed together. Bruce fought the urge to deepen the kiss, the urge to use his tongue and taste those luscious red lips. He pulled back, inwardly damning himself for the desire rising within him. J giggled, snuggling against Bruce’s chest. Bruce stood up with J in his arms.

“C’mon, little fella. Time to take you back to Nanny Lee.” Bruce carried J out of his bedroom and down the long corridor to the nursery. _I need to get suited up soon. Gotham City needs me._ Jim Gordon had told him that the Riddler was terrorizing the city, _again_. He buried his nose in J’s soft green hair, inhaling deeply, the smell of baby shampoo oddly comforting. _J needs me, too._ He held J tighter, enjoying the warmth of the body pressed against his. His legs seem stiff and heavy, as Bruce trudges down the corridor. _I don’t want to leave him._ _I told Jim I would come._ He ached with indecision, his throat tight and chest clenching.

Bruce walked through the open nursery door. He glanced at Nanny Lee sitting on the bed, her eyes glued to the large flat screen TV on the wall. A newscaster was sitting at her desk and a picture of the Riddler was displayed in the upper right-hand corner of the screen. The banner at the bottom reading ‘RIDDLER’S TREASURE HUNT OF HORROR’. His lips tightened as he heard the newswoman’s words.

“ ** _…the Riddler has devised a bizarre and brutal treasure hunt that leads to the scene of his next crime. He’s warned that twelve Gothamites will die unless all twelve riddles in the hunt are found and solved by midnight…_** ”

“Turn that off!” Bruce barked. Lee flinched; she had not noticed him walking into the room. She snatched the remote and turned off the TV.

“Sorry, just trying to keep up with current events.” She stood up and walked toward Bruce and J.

“I—I just don’t want him looking at things like that.” Bruce said, an apologetic lilt to his voice. “I don’t think it’s good for his rehabilitation.” Lee nodded, placing a hand on J’s shoulder.

“Is nanny’s baby hungry?” She asked, gently massaging J’s back. She looked up at Bruce. “Will we be taking dinner up here or downstairs?” Bruce looked at his watch. It was after 7:00 PM. Less than five hours left before the Riddler’s deadline.

“I have to leave. There’s an urgent matter I must attend to. I should be back in a few hours.” Bruce’s voice conveyed more conviction than he felt. He carried J over to the rocking horse and sat him on the oversized wooden toy. “Aww, look at my cowboy ride!” Bruce said, rocking the horsy as J giggled gleefully. He beckoned Lee with a crooked finger. He whispered in her ear. “Rock him for me. I have to go.” Lee flung a leg over the horse and hopped on behind J.

“Hi ho Silver! Away!” Lee shouted, wrapping her arms around J’s waist, as she sped up the rocking motion of the horse. J screamed in delight, kicking his legs into the air. Bruce took his chance and slipped out of the room, Lee and J’s raucous laughter echoing behind him.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

J and Harley gave the old wooden horse a good workout, both of them nearly breathless from laughter and exertion. Harley gradually slowed the horsy down, before coming to a complete stop. J immediately started bouncing up and down the horse, looking back at Harley, his eyes begging her to continue. Harley rested her chin on his shoulder and gave him a quick peck on the side of his mouth.

“Time to play a new game.” She stood up, getting off the horse and facing J. 

“NO!” J shouted, stomping his feet on the floor. He folded his arms and stuck out his bottom lip, turning away from her. 

“Aww, don’t be like that Puddin.” She cooed sweetly, her hand on his shoulder.

“Wanna wide horsy!” J whined, looking up at Harley with wide, green, pleading eyes. Harley’s heart melted. He was just the cutest thing she’d ever seen. He deserved a special treat. A treat she had been preparing weeks to give him. But there was something she needed to do first. She ruffled his hair with her hand. “OK, you can ride your horsy a little bit longer.” She stood up and pulled her phone and a thumb-sized device from her pocket.

She connected the wi-fi jammer to her phone and tapped furiously at the screen. Harley grinned, as a listing of all devices on the wi-fi network appeared on her phone. Her brow wrinkled as she studied the list. _What are all these listings titled cave?_ She wondered. _Well of course, he’s got a man cave somewhere in this ginormous place._ She decided, focusing her attention on the devices listed under nursery. She quickly disconnected all three nanny cams from the wi-fi network. She assumed there was also a backup hard drive connected to the cameras, but she would deal with that later. She slid the phone back in her pocket and turned back to J. She leaned over him; their foreheads almost touching.

“You’re just cranky, ‘cause you’re hungry.” Harley said, pulling down the zipper of her smock. She continued pulling until the material parted, exposing her ample cleavage and a bright red lace bra. There was a click, as she opened the front of her bra and her large, heavy breasts spilled out. She removed her top and bra, throwing them to the floor.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

J stared at the mounds of flesh dangling in front of his eyes. He reached up and touched one. He squeezed it, enjoying how his fingers sunk into the warm squishy skin. His eyes widened, as a glistening pearl of white liquid oozed from the pert pinkish-brown nipple. Harley cupped her breast, placing the teat at his mouth and spreading the drop across his lips. J licked his lips, the new flavor exciting his taste buds. He wanted more, his mouth falling open and the stiff, pointed nipple sliding inside. He heard nanny sigh softly, as his tongue flicked the tasty bud. He loved the feel of it, not quite hard, not quite soft… _perfect_.

He closed his lips around the warm nub and sucked. He hummed with happiness, as a warm spray of milk filled his mouth. He swallowed greedily. It was so good. He sucked harder, delighted by how the nipple expanded and contracted with every draw he took. The milk was really flowing now, his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down every delectable drop. He was the happiest baby in the world!

With no warning, the nipple was pulled from his mouth. _NO!_ _WANT MORE!_ J’s frantic mind screamed. He whimpered and reached out for his nanny. She took his hand. This time he didn’t fight her when she helped him off the horse and walked him to the bed. She coaxed him closer, as she scooted up the mattress and leaned against the pillows propped up to the headboard. The next thing he knew, she was pulling him onto her lap. He relaxed into the warm comfort of her body as she cradled his head in the crook of her arm and nudged her nipple back into his waiting mouth. He suckled hungrily, mesmerized by the sensation of the rich creamy milk rolling over his tongue.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Harley leaned back against the headboard, closing her eyes. She relaxed to the soothing sound of him feeding, her body engulfed in a warm glow of contentment. This was worth all the hard work. The weeks, of taking milk-inducing pills and pumping her breasts several times a day, were finally paying off. Her body trembled as his puckered lips pulled at her nipple, his tongue teasing the hot nub. Harley moaned to the sweet, slurpy sound of his suckling, her panties growing moist. 

Harley had never considered nursing an erotic experience…but this was her Puddin. The man who could arouse her with a single seductive glance. The mere sight of his mouth wickedly working her nipple had her close to creaming her britches. They hadn’t had sex in over a month and his touch was driving her mad with need. 

She bit her lip, her aching cunt craving his cock. Her body burned with desire, as she envisioned being filled by his hard, thick shaft. Her hand slid down his torso, pass his rippled abs, pass his curly pubic hairs, stopping at his cock. She squeezed, delighted to feel his length plumping in her hand. She stroked him slowly. He grew longer and harder in her grasp. 

She heard him inhale sharply. She gasped at the rush of cool air across her nipple and the titillating twinge it sent to her pussy. He latched back on, sucking with renewed fervor. Her clitoris throbbed with every pull of his mouth. She imagined his lips were on her clit…sucking, flicking it with his tongue; her body shuddered. She wanted his cock and she wanted it _now_. 

She pulled her nipple from his mouth, cooing softly when he whined. She licked a stray drop of milk from his lip. She carefully eased him off her lap, letting him lean against the pillowed headboard. He reached out to her, grabby hands going for her breasts. She placed her palm on his chest, as she stood up. She pulled off her pants. Her wet panties clung to her thighs, as she shimmied them down and kicked them from her feet. 

Completely naked, she straddled his waist and smiled. His body was warm and firm beneath her. She gyrated her hips, her wet folds moistening his sizable erection. Panting with need, she lifted herself into a squat and grabbed his cock. She rubbed the bulbous head across the entrance of her dripping pussy. She teased herself with the smooth wettened tip, just barely sliding it into her hole and clenching, her muscles massaging its head. She rubbed the hot, hard helmet of flesh against her clit, trembling as shivers shot up her spine. 

She moaned with desire. Her hole ached to be filled…ached to be pounded. Unable to wait another second, she shoved his cock deep inside her. She heard J groan loudly, as her tight, wet pussy slid down his shaft, not stopping until her butt cheeks landed on his balls. 

“Oh God! YES!” Harley said, her voice thick with passion, her walls clenching around him. His swollen cock, as always, a perfect fit, stretching her pussy with its girth. Her hands dug into his shoulders, as she began moving up and down his thick shaft. She rose, only his swollen tip inside her, then slammed down swallowing it whole. Like a starving man at a feast, her hungry hole gorged itself on his delicious dick, shoving it deep inside her. Lightheaded, she nearly swooned with pleasure. Slick, slippery sounds accompanied every plunge of her pussy on his cock. Sounds that blended with the groans, moans and gasps wantonly tumbling from both their lips.

“Fuck!” She cried, as his cock pounded that special spot inside her. “Oh shit!” He did it again. Again and again. “Goddammit! Mistah Jaaaaaay!” Harley screamed, as the force of her orgasm ripped through her. Her body and mind rocked by wave after wave of utter ecstasy. Firm, white fingers dug into her hips, bouncing her up and down on his cock, prolonging the exquisite peak of her pleasure. She threw her head back, closing her eyes and getting lost in the moment. She had just experienced a mind-blowing, toe-curling orgasm and the tantalizing tingles of a second were already building within her.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Lil J didn’t know what Nanny Lee was doing to him. But he knew that he never wanted her to stop. He could tell, she liked it, too. _She always likes it. A lot._ He couldn’t explain how he knew that, but he did. And now was not the time to worry about why. He was far too busy enjoying Nanny Lee’s fun new game. He heard her screaming his name and he grabbed her hips, thrusting up into her wicked warmth, enthralled by the wondrous feel of her flesh sheathing his. The noises coming from her throat were hoarse and grunt-like, he loved the sound of them.

He kept thrusting up into her, each stroke sublime. His balls tightened, his cock growing harder, his grip on her hips bruising. He exploded inside her, his body arching up from the bed. He groaned through gritted teeth, as his cock spasmed, filling her cunt with his seed.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

A short time later…

Harley was floating in a sea of postcoital bliss. She was lying on her back, her Puddin nestled next to her, suckling at her teat. It took her mind a moment to register the heaviness in her bladder. She had no desire to interrupt her Puddin’s feeding, but she didn’t want him to have an accident either. Most of all, she didn’t want to hear _‘I told you so’_ from bossy Bruce. She nudged his shoulder gently.

“Time to go potty.” She said. He continued to feed, ignoring her. Harley sighed and rolled her eyes. She nudged him again, not quite so gently this time. Her breath hitched, as he bit down her nipple. He looked up at her through dark, thick lashes, a wide knowing smile on his lips. She knew that smile.

“Mistah J?” She whispered, her voice thready and unsure. He didn’t answer. He was far too busy happily suckling from her breast. _That smile on his face. It wasn’t little J’s smile. It was the Joker’s._ She sat up, dislodging his lips from her teat. J whimpered, looking up at her with a childlike, hurt expression. He reached for her and she stood up. He started crying, pounding his fists on the bed and kicking his legs. He wasn’t acting like the Joker now. She wondered if had just imagined it. Harley snatched her clothes off of the floor and stormed into the bathroom.

Harley stood in the middle of the bathroom, trying to ignore the loud crying in the next room. _He sounds so sad._ She thought, fighting the urge to go back to him. _I need to be strong. I’ve got a job to do._ She winced as his wails grew louder, but she remained resolute. _Remember the plan._ She told herself. The truth was, the Joker never told her the whole plan. That wasn’t odd, he rarely did. But she did know what she was expected to do. 

She smiled, recalling that she’d already accomplished three of her four goals. She recounted them in her head. _One, get a job at Arkham as a nurse…done. Two, dilute Dr. Einstein’s medicine with saline before it’s administered to the Joker…done. Three, get hired as the Joker’s nanny…done._ _Well, three out of four ain’t bad._ She thought with a wry grin. _Funny thing is the first three goals don’t matter if I don’t achieve the fourth…getting Mistah J his memory back._

Harley noticed something. J was no longer screaming at the top of his lungs. All she heard were soft little hiccup-like whimpers. She looked through the crack in the partially open door. She grinned. Lil’ J was making his way to the bathroom, crawling on all fours. She opened the door wide and he crawled inside. She lifted him by his armpits and sat him on the toilet, tucking his wee wee beneath the seat. She stood tall, her hands on her hips.

“NOW PEE!” She commanded, giving him a hard glare. J flinched at her tone of voice. The sound of piss hitting the commode, reached her ears. “Good boy!” She said, ruffling his hair and kissing his forehead. “I’ve got a surprise for you.” She added cheerily, digging into the pocket of her smock. She pulled out a tube of lipstick. She opened it, twisting the tube, and revealing the bright red stick inside.

“Gimme!” J said, grinning and reaching for the lipstick. Harley lifted her arm, pulling it out of his reach.

“I knew you’d like this. It’s your favorite shade, Redrum.” She said, smiling from ear-to-ear. “Now put your hands down, so I can fix you up.” She slapped his hands lightly and he put them in his lap. She bent over and applied the lipstick. She was careful to get just the way he liked it. A trifle smudged with the corners extended past his lips, to widen his smile. She stood up closing the tube. 

“Perfect!” She proclaimed, giving his wee wee a little shake and helping him to his feet. She led him to the mirror. He silently stared at his reflection, his mouth hanging open. “Who are you?” Harley asked, standing behind him. He remained silent, still staring at his face in the mirror. Harley twisted her lips, rubbing her chin. She’d really thought the lipstick would jog his memory. “Oh, I know what’s wrong. Your expression. You’re not smiling.” She tickled his ribs and he started to giggle, wrapping his arms around his torso, and squirming to avoid her tickles. She stopped and he glanced back at the mirror, a wide smile on his face. He slapped his forehead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have rewritten this chapter. I hope you enjoy this new version. 

Bruce exited the Batmobile, his head was bowed, and shoulders slumped, as he trudged into the Batcave. He stripped out of the Batsuit. He moved robotically, as if he was operating on autopilot. He couldn’t get the image of the three dead hostages out of his mind. _I failed and three people died_. He thought morosely. Although he had succeeded in capturing the Riddler and returning him to Arkham, innocent people had died… _horrible painful deaths_. None of them would have open caskets. What was left of their bodies could fit inside a shoe box.

The meaningless deaths were like massive boulder weighing heavily on Bruce’s heart. _I_ _t’s my fault they’re dead._ He mourned. _I allowed myself to get distracted._ Throughout the night, his mind had kept drifting back to J, wondering what he was doing, how he was coping without him. J had been a constant presence at the back of Bruce’s mind from the moment he’d walked out the nursery door. 

Bruce plopped down into the chair in front of the Batcomputer. He buried his face in his hands, a sob-like groan rising from his constricted throat. _I wasted precious time trying to determine why I couldn’t establish a remote connection with the cameras in the nursery, when I should have been focused on solving Nygma’s riddles._ _I allowed myself to be distracted, costing lives I’d sworn to protect._

He wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and forget about this wretched night, but he’d never figured out why the nursery’s cameras weren’t working. He sat up straight in his chair and began clicking away with his mouse. Live video footage, from all three cameras, appeared on the screen. _Odd, they all seem to be working perfectly now._ He sighed wearily. He knew that troubleshooting a problem, after the problem had resolved itself, was usually an annoying, time-consuming process and he was just too beat to deal with that now. 

His eyes were drawn to the camera feed displaying the bed. Nanny Lee had obviously decided against using the crib. She and little J were sleeping together on the bed. Lee was laying on her back and J was lying at her side, his head resting on her shoulder, his leg thrown across hers and his hand on her breast. An uneasy twinge twisted in Bruce’s gut at the sight of them cuddled up on the bed together. _Looks like he really likes his new nanny._ Bruce noted, frowning. Bruce told himself he wasn’t jealous, but the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach begged to differ.

Bruce hmphed and switched off the camera feed, glancing at the time on the corner of the screen. _God, it’s almost 2:00 AM! I need to get some sleep. Lee will be off duty in four hours, and I’ll need to take over._ Bruce rose from his chair and stretched; his laced fingers high above his head. He yawned, lowering his arms, and making his way to the elevator.

5:47 AM. Bruce's bedroom...

Bruce stared at the digital clock with sleep-heavy eyes. He groaned. He had already hit the snooze button once. _I need to get up._ _Lee will need to be leaving soon._ He threw the covers off his body, the cool breeze it created, nudging him more awake. He sat on the side of the bed, running his fingers through his hair. There was a light tap at his door. He looked up. 

“Alfred?” he called out. 

“No, it’s me, Lee,” she answered. “I thought maybe we should touch bases before I leave.” Bruce stood up and answered the door.

“Sorry, I overslept,” Bruce mumbled.

“No problem.” She gave him a bright cheerful smile. Bruce did not realize he was staring at it until she tapped his arm. “Still kinda sleepy, huh?” She joked, still smiling. For the second time, Bruce was struck by a vague sense of déjà vu. _I know that smile. But on whose face?_ He looked up into her big, baby-blue eyes. His face fell. But in less than a second, he jumped back in character, giving her a sheepish grin.

“Yeah, probably stayed out later than I should have.”

“Maybe we can talk in the nursery. I don’t like leaving baby J alone, even if he is sleeping.”

“I know, you’d never leave J alone.” The words came out snarkier than he intended, and he hurriedly continued. “So, how did your first night go?” he added in a lighter tone, giving her his trademark Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy smile. He touched her arm, leading her toward the nursery.

“Great! Baby J was a little sweetheart.”

“Good to hear. Is there anything else I should know?”

“Hmm, let’s see, uh, he had dinner around eight. I got him settled down and sleep by 10. But by three AM he woke up kind of fussy. I gave him a bottle and a fresh diaper, and he’s been out like a light ever since.” They entered the nursery together. “See, the little fella’s still knocked out,” she added, gesturing toward the bed. Lil’ J was curled up on the middle of the mattress, warm and cozy in a fleece, footed onesie. She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. She began stroking J’s hair. Bruce’s lips tightened. His body grew uncomfortably warm, his fists clenching, as he fought the urge to snatch her off the bed.

“You’ll be back at six tonight?” Bruce said, forcing a smile. “I’ll walk you to the door.” He couldn’t wait to get her out of his house.

“Would you like me to change him before I leave?” Harley looked up at him smiling. Bruce longed to slap that smile off her face, but now was not the time or place. 

“No, you just finished a twelve-hour shift. I’ll take care of it,” Bruce said, walking toward the door.

“Alrighty then,” Harley said, standing up and following Bruce of the room.

Bruce hurried back to the nursery after Harley left. He stood over the bed, watching J sleep. He pinched the bridge of his nose; he had a headache. _A headache named Harley._ He internally grumbled. He’d already formulated a plan for dealing with her when she returned. _But what if she makes a move before then…why hasn’t she made a move already? She and had plenty of time to get him out of here last night._

Bruce sat down on the bed with an exhausted sigh, troubling questions swirling through his aching head. He stretched out on the bed and rolled to his side, next to J. He carefully wrapped his arm around his sleeping clown, holding him, back to chest. _I’m not going to let her take you from me._ Those were his last thoughts, as he drifted off to sleep.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

The Joker’s eyes popped open. He had to pee. He shifted on the bed and the muscled arm wrapped around his torso tightened. He looked over his shoulder and glanced at Bruce’s sleeping face. He turned back around and sighed, snuggling closer. He was so warm and comfy in his daddy’s arms. He blinked twice. _What am I thinking!_ _He’s not my daddy!_ The Joker’s heart rate quickened. _Dr. Einstein’s drugs, they’re still messing with my head!_

He fought the urge to fling Bruce’s arm from his body and jump from the bed. A tiny voice whispered in the back of his mind. _No, he’s not your daddy. But he could be._ The Joker’s mind wandered back to the previous day, the time he and daddy had spent together. He couldn’t recall ever feeling as loved and protected…as perfectly content. 

His chest tightened, as he recognized a need, he’d never known he had. That something, he’d been missing for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t ready to give it up. He relaxed, peeing into his diaper. The warmth spread across his genitals…soothing…comforting. It felt naughty, but nice. He gently took Bruce’s hand and placed it over his erection. Smiling, he fell back to sleep.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

A couple of hours later…

Bruce’s eyes flickered open. He smiled, enjoying the warmth of the sleeping body spooning his. He nuzzled his nose in the back of J’s head. He inhaled deeply, J’s soft, wavy hair gently tickling his nostrils. He loved the way his baby the smelled, like caramel-coated strawberries. He tightened his arm across J’s torso and sighed, wishing the two of them could stay wrapped up together like this all day. J hummed contentedly, seemingly echoing Bruce’s thoughts. J leaned his head back, resting it atop Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce gasped softly, momentarily surprised by the look of unabashed adoration in the huge, green eyes gazing lovingly at his face. He couldn’t help but grin. It felt good to be looked at like that. He brushed the stray hairs from J’s brow and kissed his forehead.

“Good morning,” Bruce said, a big, dopey grin on his face. 

“Mor’n, Daddy!” J replied with a bright cheerful chirp. J scooted backwards, snuggling closer, his plump, diaper-covered bum nudging at Bruce’s morning wood. Bruce’s cheeks pinkened, as his cock stirred beneath his sweatpants. Bruce jumped to his feet, the tent in his pants so obvious that a blind man could see it. J sat up, his bottom lip pouty and trembling, his outstretched arms reaching for Bruce.

“I’ll be right back,” Bruce said, bopping J’s nose with a fingertip and dashing into the bathroom. He pulled the door half closed behind him. Bruce willed his body to relax, taking slow, deep breaths. He began counting backwards from one hundred in his head, his surefire technique for getting rid of ill-timed hard ons. By the time he got to fifty, things had sorted themselves out. He walked over to the toilet and lifted the seat, pulling his now flaccid member from his pants. He sighed with relief, as his strong stream hit the water.

Bruce noticed the door opening out of the corner of his eye. J crawled into the bathroom. He stopped at Bruce’s feet and sat back on his heels. His eyes wide, sparkling, and fixed on Bruce. He wet his lips, making a soft smacking sound. Bruce’s forehead wrinkled; he wasn’t used to someone watching him piss. Especially when that someone was staring his penis like a kid in a candy shop. 

Bruce stared back and swallowed thickly. J was sitting on the floor beside him, his lips wet and glistening with saliva. The only sounds in the room were their breathing and the hiss of Bruce’s urine hitting the porcelain. Bruce imagined J kneeling before him, as he drenched him in a steaming torrent of piss; not stopping until his hair, clothes and lips were dripping with his urine…until he was saturated with his scent.

Bruce turned away, ashamed of his filthy fantasy. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image had already burned into his psyche, leaving an indelible mark on his mind. He opened his eyes as his stream slowed to a trickle and he shook off the final drops. The cool hand touched his warm thigh and he looked down at J, who had risen to his knees.

“Baba, Daddy,” J said, the hint of a whine in his soft, childlike voice. J tilted his chin upward, his mouth open, his tongue visibly hanging from his lips. Bruce inhaled sharply, staring at the pink, wet muscle and the string of drool dangling precariously from its tip. 

“I-I’ll get your bottle,” Bruce stammered, moving to return his penis to his pants. A pale white hand covered his, halting his motion. “No, I…” Bruce whispered hoarsely, his penis was still exposed and mere inches from J’s face. J leaned forward; the tip of his tongue swiping Bruce’s slit. The tiny, tantalizing touch sent shudders through Bruce’s body and he released a shivering breath. 

Bruce knew he should push J away, but he didn’t. He inhaled sharply, as the head of his cock disappeared between bright, ruby red lips. Bruce stood there, transfixed, as those beautiful lips puckered and twitched around his cock, cheeks hollowing and inflating with a slow almost rhythmic beat. Bruce moaned, every movement of that warm, velvety mouth sending sublime sensations to his very core. Bruce closed his eyes and threw back his head, a hoarse grunt falling from his lips. His fingers weaved through J’s hair, his breath coming in hard pants, as his baby’s magic mouth munched on his meat. Bruce’s cock pulsed with pleasure, as J made sweet, slurpy sounds around his spit-slickened shaft.

Then there was silence. Bruce’s eyes popped open, as J’s mouth slid off his length. J giggled, getting back down to all fours and crawling out the bathroom. Bruce stood there, his mouth hanging open and his cock aching for release. _Serves me right._ Bruce chastised himself. _I had no right to use him like that. Why can’t I resist him?_ _Why am I so weak and wicked? I’ll probably burn in hell for this._

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

_A great entertainer always leaves the audience hungry for more._ The Joker silently jested, climbing up into the bed and grabbing his teddy bear. He bit back a grin, as he watched Bruce slowly exit the bathroom, his erection visible beneath his sweatpants. Bruce’s head was hung low, as he walked pass the bed, seemingly too embarrassed and ashamed to face J. The Joker sat in the middle of the bed, bouncing his teddy in his lap and pretending he wasn’t watching Bruce out of the corner of his eye. He knew his caretaker was riddled with guilt and he loved it. _Those pesky morals are going to be the death of the you, Brucie boy. But fear not daddy dearest, I’ll strip them all away…one by one._

Bruce walked over to the intercom. The Joker continued playing with his toy, feigning indifference to Bruce’s conversation, but listening intently the entire time. Unfortunately, Bruce was whispering, making it difficult for him to hear. The Joker was only able to pick up the occasional word, but he heard Bruce say ‘Lee is Harley Quinn’ loud and clear. _So, she’s been made._ He silently noted. He wasn’t surprised. Her disguise was good, but his Batsy was the world’s greatest detective. 

He’d figured out Batman’s secret identity years ago. It mattered little to him. Bruce Wayne was no more than Batman’s daytime mask. He understood that outing Bruce Wayne would be the end of Batman. And that was the last thing he wanted.

Folks on his payroll at Arkham Asylum had told him of Dr. Einstein’s intended treatment plan. He’d immediately began making plans to escape. But the day before his planned escape, he discovered that he would be in the custody of Bruce Wayne after his treatments were completed. He’d decided to come up with an entirely new plan. This was an opportunity he could not resist. 

Living with Batman. He had no doubt he could turn that situation in his favor. And he’d been right. Batman had succumbed to his charms on the very first day. Confirming his suspicion that Batman wanted him every bit as much as he wanted Batman. _Poor Brucie, he just can’t resist his sweet baby Joker._

He heard Bruce’s voice rise in anger, flicking the intercom off and storming out the room. The Joker lifted his teddy bear’s bright green jacket and reached into the open seam, retrieving the cellphone Harley had left for him. He quickly texted her that the jig was up, and she’d been made. He told her to call in sick for the next couple of days, so they wouldn’t suspect that she knew her cover was blown. He also warned her not to return to Wayne manor until he gave the word.

From what he could pick up of Bruce Wayne’s conversation, he knew that they would be leaving Gotham soon. He hadn’t told Harley that part. He knew she would overreact and come charging into the manor, guns a blazing, to rescue him. But he had no problems with leaving, as long as he was leaving with Batman.

The Joker furrowed his brow, as he attempted to concentrate on his plans for Batman. He bit his lip. _What’s wrong with me?_ He pondered, worriedly. _I can’t focus. It’s like my mind is turning to mush._ He grabbed his head, his fingers digging into his scalp and tugging at his hair. It wasn’t getting better. It was getting worse. He closed his eyes, curling up into a ball on the mattress. He stuck his thumb in his mouth, the gesture strangely comforting. He reached for his teddy bear and hugged it to his chest.

“Daddy,” he whimpered. It was scary being in the big room all by himself.

Three hours later in Bruce’s private jet…

J giggled, as Bruce fastened his seat belt and gave him a little tickle. They were going fly to ‘the cabin’. J had no idea what or where the cabin was, and he didn’t care. Because he was going to be with daddy. And better yet, Mr. Meanie man wasn’t coming. Mr. Meanie man was mad at daddy. J thinks meanie man is mad at him, too, because he kept pointing at J and yelling at daddy. He slammed the door and it went BOOM really loud. It scared J and he started crying, but daddy gave him hugs and kisses and made it all better. 

The plane’s engine started, a subtle rumble beneath J’s feet. His eyes widened, his mouth forming an O. He turned to daddy, sitting beside him with a big smile on his handsome face. He pointed to the window and J looked out. The plane was moving! J bounced in his seat, ignoring the pull of the seatbelt around his waist.

“Daddy! Daddy! Wook!” he shrieked, pointing to the scenery flashing pass the window. J gasped, the plane was rising from the tarmac. He grabbed his daddy’s arm, burying his face in his shoulder. “Scarwy Daddy!” he whimpered, his fingers digging into Bruce’s arm. Bruce wrapped an arm around him, gently squeezing his shoulder. 

“It’s alright baby. Daddy will keep you safe.” J looked up at him with wet eyes full of trust. J sniffed, the pounding in his chest slowing to a gentle pitter-patter _. It’s going to be OK. Daddy said so._

Around 4 hours later… 

The Joker grunted, a firm hand on his shoulder nudging him awake. His eyes opened, darting around in confusion. _I’m in a bed. In a bedroom. On a plane!_ Memories of how he’d gotten there, rushing to his mind. Memories of the state he’d been in were fuzzy, but clear enough to send his pulse racing. _What the hell is happening to me!_ His brilliant plan had not included vacillating uncontrollably between man and toddler. 

“We’ll be landing soon. We need to get back to our seats and buckle in,” Bruce announced. The Joker bit back the snide remark perched at his lips. _You’re supposed to be a baby._ He reminded himself. _Babies don’t have snappy comebacks._ Bruce leaned over, giving him a playful slap on the rump. “Time to get up.” The Joker frowned. He had pissed himself while he was asleep. His diaper was cold, wet and uncomfortable. He sat up, pulling at the fabric covering his crouch.

“Wet, Daddy!” he whined.

“Well, I better get you all clean and dry before we land.” Bruce lifted the diaper bag from the floor and placed it on the bed. He quickly pulled J’s pants down and removed the diaper. The Joker noticed Bruce was spending a little more time than necessary cleaning his penis with a wet wipe. He decided to have a little fun.

“Pee pee owie, daddy!” the Joker said with a whiny pout. “Kiss, make bedda.” Bruce had read him a story where little Billy had fallen and scuffed his knee. His mommy had kissed it and made it better. Bruce gave him a curious look, then smiled and leaned over kissing his cock with a loud smack.

“There, all better,” Bruce said, reaching for the powder.

“T’anks daddy,” the Joker responded with a sly grin that Bruce was too busy with the diaper to see. _Oh Batsy, my darling, darling Batsy, you and I will be having lots of fun, just the two of us, all alone in the middle of nowhere._ The Joker silently rejoiced. Then he frowned, clenching his teeth. _All I have to do is stay grown up._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this chapter may seem familiar, but this is a new chapter. After the first few paragraphs, there’s quite a bit of new material, which I hope you’ll enjoy.

Chapter seven

The Joker sat on the edge of the bed hugging Bear and tapping his toes on the floor. He was rather proud of himself. Not only had he regained the faculties of his adult mind, but he had played his role as baby J perfectly and Bruce was none the wiser. His mind wandered to the chaste kiss Bruce had placed on his penis. _He’s so easy to manipulate._ He giggled softly at the thought. Bruce was busy putting his changing supplies back into the diaper bag, but he turned to the Joker at the sound.

“What’s so funny?” Bruce asked, giving the Joker a warm smile, as he stuffed the last item into the bag and zipped it up. The Joker froze for a moment, unsure of how to react. His performance needed to remain flawless. His Bat was a clever fellow. The Joker lifted his arms beckoning toward Bruce, Bear falling from his grasp and rolling off the bed.

“Daddy,” the Joker called out, reaching for Bruce with grabby hands. Bruce’s smile widened and he walked over to the Joker, lifting him by the armpits and pulling him up into a hug. The Joker wrapped his arms and legs around Bruce and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

“Aww, you just wanted cuddles.” Bruce said sweetly, kissing the top of his head. “Mmm, daddy likes cuddles, too.” Bruce hummed contentedly. The Joker nuzzled into his neck, enjoying the rich and woodsy scent of his cologne. The smell was comforting…safe. He took a deep breath, relaxing into the firm, strong arms wrapped around him. Happy and content, he hardly noticed the soft, soothing cloud settling over his mind. Blissfully, he rested in his daddy’s arms; smoothly, seamlessly slipping into baby J. All plans and pretense had fled him; he wasn’t acting. He was daddy’s little boy. He whimpered softly, as daddy placed him back on the bed.

“Let’s get your shoes on,” Daddy said, lifting a boot from the floor and loosening the laces. He slid it over J’s foot and tied the laces. J squirmed around, looking from side to side. _Where did Bear go?_ J wondered. He knew Bear was important, even if he couldn’t exactly remember why. Bruce noticed his fidgeting and glanced around. “Looking for this?” Daddy said, picking up the bear that had fallen off the bed. 

Daddy handed it to him, and J smiled, hugging the teddy to his chest. Daddy put on his other shoe, as J watched, sucking his thumb. Daddy stood up and extended his open hand to J. J lifted his arms in response, his butt bouncing on the bed. _Pick me up Daddy!_ He silently pleaded with open arms and begging eyes.

Daddy grinned and bent over, lifting J into his arms. Daddy carried him out of the bedroom and back to their seats. J clung to his daddy with one arm, while clutching Bear with the other. Daddy sat him in his seat and J whined, he wanted to stay in daddy’s arms. Daddy shushed him with a soft, swift kiss on his pouting lips. J smiled. Daddy’s sweet kisses always made him feel better.

Less than 15 minutes later…

There was a noticeable bump as the aircraft hit the runway. J gasped and grabbed Daddy’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Daddy squeezed back and J immediately felt safer. Daddy’s firm grip as comforting, as a soft, cozy blanket. J stared out the window, his eyes growing wide, as he took in the snowy airfield and the mountain peaks towering in the distance.

He stood up tall like a big boy, as daddy buttoned up his coat and slipped a pair of cozy mittens over his hands. He giggled when daddy placed a shearling lined hat on his head. It reminded J of the hat Elmer Fudd wore in the Bugs Bunny cartoons. It tickled when daddy pulled down the earflaps and tied them under his chin. The hat covered his green hair completely and the large bill cast dark shadows over his face. Daddy looked him over and hummed with what J assumed was approval. J’s heart was almost bursting with happiness, as he basked in the warm glow of his daddy’s loving care.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

They’d landed at a small private airport. The nearby airport had been one of the features that convinced Bruce to purchase his property in the area. The runway had been plowed and salted, but a coat of snow covered everything around it. The cabin’s caretaker was waiting on the tarmac, rubbing his hands together, his breath forming tiny clouds in the chilly air. He met Bruce on the stairs of the aircraft and handed him the keys to the rent-a-car reserved for his stay. He pointed to the shiny new Range Rover, less than a dozen yards away and informed Bruce that the cabin was stocked with provisions and ready for occupancy. Bruce thanked him and handed him an envelope containing ten crisp $100 bills.

Bruce ran back into the plane and helped J down the stairs of the aircraft. He saw the joy shining in J’s eyes, as he took in the unspoiled beauty of the winter wonderland and the snowcapped peaks rising in the distance. The look in J’s eyes convinced him that he had made the right move. Grinning, he quickly ushered J into the waiting car. Once inside, he got J buckled up and they were on their way. The drive to the cabin was brief, but a bit bumpy in spots. J appeared to love the bumpy ride, giggling his head off, every time he was jostled from side to side. J saw a deer and pointed at it through the windshield.

“Wook daddy! Bambi!” J cried excitedly, bouncing in his seat. Bruce grinned. J’s childlike exuberance was contagious. The deer, taking notice of the approaching car, ran back into the woods. “Why he wun away?” J asked, folding his arms and pouting.

“I think the car scared him sweetheart.”

“Car not scawy.”

“You’re right, it’s not.” Bruce was surprised by how quickly J’s ability to speak was developing. He’d been completely nonverbal yesterday when he’d taken him from Arkham. Now, he was like a sponge, soaking up every word he heard. Bruce convinced himself that was a good thing and pushed away his nagging worries to the contrary.

Bruce turned off the main road and onto the long driveway leading to the cabin. He was glad to see the private roadway was plowed and sanded. He followed a curve in the road and the cabin came into view.

“The cab’n!” J shouted excitedly, pointing at the charming, two-story log and chink cabin sitting atop a small plateau. A sturdy wooden deck lined The second floor entrance nestled on a wide, wooden deck that was a perfect vantage point for viewing the sweeping panorama Mt. Evans and the forest of evergreens covering the 14-acre lot. 

Bruce drove up the small hill and pulled into the large carport, shutting off the engine. He got out the car, taking a deep breath and filling his lungs with the clean, crisp mountain air. It was a welcome change from the stench of Gotham’s gasoline fumes and industrial pollutants. Guilt nudged at the pit of his stomach. He’d left his city unprotected while he enjoyed the pristine splendor of his wilderness retreat.

“Daddy! Daddy!” J yelled, tugging clumsily at his seat belt and instantly reminding Bruce of why he was there. He smirked, opening the passenger side door and releasing J from the belt. J bolted from the car almost falling in his haste to be free. Bruce deftly grabbed his arm and steadied him. J toddled off, his hands raised to shoulder height, as he half-ran, half-stomped to the mini snowdrifts created by the plow at the side of the driveway. He did a belly flop, sinking a few inches into the snow. He began crawling around in it, throwing handfuls of snow into the air, as he laughed in delight.

The blindingly white snow shimmered magically under the midafternoon sun. It was nothing like the grimy gray slush that covered Gotham’s streets after snowfall. Bruce hung back, watching indulgently as his darling boy played in the snow, the sweet strains of his laughter rising like the tinkle of sleigh bells in the frigid air. Bruce’s heart swelled, captured in the contagious aura of J’s child-like glee. Unable to resist, Bruce joined him, stomping through the snow, relishing the satisfying crunch beneath his feet. Precious childhood memories of snow days playing through his mind. Bruce laid down on a smooth patch of snow, grinning from ear-to-ear, as he spread his arms and legs to create a snow angel. J stopped playing to watch, giggling and clapping his mitten-covered hands. J plopped down in the snow next to him, copying his movements, creating a snow angel of his own.

Bruce stood up, helping a snow-covered J to his feet. Bruce’s chest tightened at the sight of bright green eyes gazing up at him with awe and adoration. A tender warmth spread through Bruce’s body, unfazed by the frigid Rocky Mountain air. Instinctively, he wrapped his strong arms around his baby boy and hugged him close. J hummed happily, throwing his arms over Bruce’s shoulders and snuggling against his neck. Bruce closed his eyes and sighed. _Yes, I need this as much as he does._

Bruce staggered slightly, caught off guard when J jumped up and wrapped his legs around Bruce’s waist. Bruce quickly shifted his grip, his hand grabbing J’s rump and holding him securely. J giggled, clinging to Bruce like a giant koala bear, as he carried him to the door of the cabin. Bruce chuckled, struggling with the load in his arms and retrieving the keys from his pocket. J released his death grip on Bruce and squirmed out of his arms the moment they crossed the threshold.

J’s eyes were wide and sparkling with delight, as he took in the large living room, logwood-beamed ceiling, and massive stone fireplace. He waddled over to the fireplace with that wide legged toddler walk that Bruce found adorable. J plopped down on the expertly rendered faux bearskin rug and stared at the flames dancing behind the glass covered hearth. Bruce smiled, sending a silent _thank you_ to the cabin’s caretaker for giving the spacious room is welcoming aura.

While J sat, fascinated by the pop and sizzle of the orange and gold flames, Bruce hurried back outside to fetch their bags. Once everything was inside, he pulled J to his feet and removed his hat, coat, and mittens. He ran his fingers through J’s slightly damp hat hair, as J leaned against his chest, sucking his thumb. Bruce plopped them both down on the sofa and sighed, closing his eyes. He leaned back, basking in the peaceful tranquility. The room silent but for the crackling flames and the soft sucking sound of J nursing his thumb.

Bruce’s head jerked up, his eyes snapping open, as he caught himself nodding off. _Where’s J!_ His mind screamed, his eyes darting around the living room and the adjacent kitchen. His heart pounding like a jackhammer, he jumped to his feet. The sound of giggling and running water echoed from somewhere outside the room.

“J!” he shouted, running in the direction of the sound. He dashed through the master bedroom to the ensuite bath. The room was a mess, towels ripped from their racks and strewn across the floor in sodden heaps. J was standing at the sink, clapping his hands under the running faucet, water splashing everywhere. Anger rose in Bruce, like a hot, heavy coal his chest. “STOP THAT!” Bruce yelled, racing over to the sink and turning off the water.

“Dada! Want wa wa!” J whined, his bottom lip protruding petulantly. He stomped his foot, creating ripples in the sizable puddle of water on the floor. J reached for the faucet and Bruce grabbed his arm, hot fingers digging into cool, white skin.

“NO! No playing in the sink.” Bruce snapped, yanking J’s arm and pulling him away from the sink. J’s face crumpled, his eyes getting watery and his bottom lip trembling. Bruce inhaled sharply. He was shaken by how easily he’d shifted back to the old Joker/Batman dynamic. He dropped J’s arm and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for shouting, but you can’t play with water in the house. See the mess you made?” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. The front of J’s jumper was drenched, and his arms were wet to the elbows. “C’mon, we need to get to dried off.”

“Sowwy Dada.” J said in a shaky voice, a tear rolling down his cheek. Bruce’s heart clenched at the sight of his baby’s tears.

“It’s OK, just don’t do it again.” Bruce took his hand and led him into the bedroom. He sat J on the side of the bed, catching J’s arms as he reached out to hug him. “No hugs until you’re dry,” Bruce said, grabbing the hem of his jumper and pulling it up. “Arms up.“ J lifted his arms, still whimpering, the sound muffled, as Bruce pulled the garment over his head. Bruce sighed wearily, noticing his undershirt and slacks were equally soaked. Bruce made quick work of getting him out of his wet clothes. J stood in front of him wearing nothing but his diaper and socks. He was shivering. Bruce, scowling at the mess, failed to notice.

“Dada?” J whispered, his arm trembling as he tentatively tugged at Bruce’s shirt. Bruce saw him shivering and winced. Bruce pulled J into his arms, hugging him tightly and gently rocking him from side to side. J’s arms slowly encircled Bruce’s waist, returning the embrace. They stood that way for a moment, each taking comfort from the warm body pressed against them. Bruce gently pulled away, tenderly taking J’s hands in his.

“Let’s get you out of that wet diaper and find you something nice and warm to wear.” He let go of J’s hands and grabbed a piece of luggage from the floor, flinging it on the king size bed. J stood there, watching Bruce unzipping the bag, hugging himself. Bruce spread the changing pad over the bed, tenderly taking J’s hand and coaxing him to lay across it. Once he got J situated, he opened the diaper. Bruce frowned at the red, irritated skin on his crouch and upper thighs.

“Aww, baby’s got owies.” He cooed, gently cleaning the area with a wipe. J made small, pained noises with every touch. Bruce flinched at the sound, wishing there was a way to make this easier on his baby. He remembered when he changed him on the aircraft. He leaned over, placing small, chaste kisses on the irritated skin. He lifted J’s legs to clean between his butt cheeks. He wiped the area, his gaze flitting to J’s sweet, little hole. Bruce’s body grew warm from the mere sight of his baby’s pretty pink pucker. Unable to resist the temptation, he kissed it, his lips lingering for a moment, as they moved against the tight ring of muscles. It clenched beneath his lips. His cock twitched at the sensation.

A voice in his head screamed, _Stop! This is wrong!_ Bruce lifted his head, his eyes still fixed on J’s pretty little opening, all pink and rosy like a little flower. _One little taste won’t hurt._ He told himself, leaning forward and swiping the cute button with his tongue. It clenched again, a soft gasp falling from his baby’s lips. _See, he likes it._ _There’s nothing wrong with making my baby feel good._ Bruce licked it again and was rewarded by a happy giggle. Bruce’s cock grew hard. 

Encouraged by the sweet sound, he continued to kiss and lick at his baby’s pretty little hole. The sound of J’s breathy pants spurred him on, the tip of his tongue teasing at the opening and sliding inside. J’s body quivered beneath him, his tiny hole fluttering around Bruce’s tongue. Bruce delved deeper, savoring the sensation of the hot hole clenching his tongue. He dreamed of getting it sopping wet and sliding his throbbing cock into the tight heat. His kisses grew wetter and sloppier, as his hips gyrated on the mattress; the simple friction made exquisite by the fantasy filling his mind. Beads of pre-come dampened Bruce’s boxers.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

J panted, his breath coming out in quick, short huffs. Daddy was kissing his boo-boo and his daddy was the best kisser in the world. His tummy tightened with each swipe of daddy’s tongue. Sweet, tingly sparks shot through his body, going straight to his wee wee, which stiffened and swelled up right before his eyes. _Just like a clown’s balloon_ , J giggled at the thought. His wee wee was doing a happy dance, bouncing up and down in tiny arcs on his tummy. J gasped, as daddy’s tongue slipped inside his boo-boo. It tickled in the most delightful way and Mr. Wee wee jumped with joy, a drop of clear fluid oozing from its slit. J moaned, as daddy spread his cheeks, diving deeper with his tongue. J closed his eyes, his body aquiver, saliva dripping over his balls.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

The phone rang, Bruce gasped, startled by the sound. _Who could that be? No one has this number. Well, no one except Alfred._ He reluctantly pulled off his baby and lifted himself from the bed. Bruce wiped the spit from his mouth with the back of his hand and picked up the phone. J sat up, watching his daddy lift the phone to his ear. Bruce smiled at him and answered the phone.

“Hello.”

“Master Bruce, thank God you made it there. I was worried when I didn’t hear from you.” Alfred said. Bruce frowned; he had forgotten that he’d promised to call Alfred when he arrived.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I got kind of tied up getting, uh, settled in.” Bruce sat on the edge of the bed and J crawled over to him, snuggling against his side. Bruce wrapped his arm around him, grateful for his closeness.

“Perfectly understandable. How’s the cabin? Was everything suitably prepared for your arrival?” Alfred asked, a note of worry in his voice.

“Yes, the caretaker did an excellent job getting it ready for occupancy.” Bruce said, biting his lip and hoping his words were true. He had fallen asleep before looking over all the rooms and verifying there were sufficient provisions in the kitchen.

“Glad to hear it. Mr. Anderson is a good man.” Alfred was silent for a moment. “And your, er, charge. How is he faring in the new environment?” The concern even plainer in his voice.

“He’s doing great. He really loves the snow.” Bruce said with a smirk. _J loves water in all its forms._

“Well, I won’t hold you on the phone long. I just wanted to make sure you arrived safely.” Bruce could hear Alfred taking a deep breath on the other side of the phone. “I’m sorry I was so cross with you before you left. I know you’re only trying to do the right thing.”

“No need to apologize. I know you only said those things because you care about me. But don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” Again, Bruce hoped his words were true. “You just enjoy your vacation. You deserve it.”

“Thank you, sir, I will. Goodbye Master Bruce. I’ll keep in touch.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Goodbye Alfred.” Bruce disconnected the call. He glanced over at J, sitting naked beside him. Bruce sighed, guilt creeping at the edge of his mind. _I was inappropriate… **again**. I had no right to touch him like that. No right to use his body for my own selfish needs. Thank goodness Alfred called. I was out of control, intoxicated by the touch and the taste of his hot little hole. How long before I lose control and take what my body so desperately craves? _

Bruce buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking, as shame-filled sobs wracked his body.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been rewritten. If you read the earlier version, posted last week, you’ll find a few similarities, but you’ll also notice quite a lot has changed.
> 
> The feedback I got from the original chapter (zero), made it pretty clear some changes were in order. I hope you like this new version. Please let me know what you think!

J looked over at daddy with wide, worried eyes. _Is daddy crying?_ He wondered, crawling over to where his daddy was hunched over, on the edge of the bed, sobbing. He placed his hand on daddy’s back and gently rubbed it.

“Daddy?” he whispered, his bottom lip trembling, his moist eyes on the verge of spilling. Daddy sniffled and wiped his nose on his cuff. Daddy looked at him. J’s stomach clenched at the sight of his daddy’s sad, red-rimmed eyes. Daddy blinked his eyes a few times, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’ cwy Daddy.” J pleaded, clumsily wiping the tear from daddy’s cheek with the palm of his hand.

Daddy gave him a little smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. J wasn’t fooled. Daddy was still sad. He wrapped his arms around daddy and laid his head on his chest. He wished he could make daddy happy again. An idea popped in his head. _Daddy’s kisses always make me happy._ He lifted his head and kissed his daddy on the lips. It was just a quick peck. Daddy smiled again, some of the sadness fading from his eyes. J smiled back, snuggling against his daddy’s body and resting his head on his shoulder.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Two hours later, in the kitchen…

Bruce had decided franks and beans was the perfect dinner for their first night in the cabin. After a hectic day of preparation and travel, not to mention cleaning up the mess J had made of the bathroom, Bruce wasn’t in the mood to prepare a anything more elaborate.

“Hungwee, Daddy!” J shouted, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, swinging his feet like pendulums. Bruce turned away from the stove and glanced at his little fella. J was wearing nothing but his fleece pajama top and a pair of warm woolen socks. As much as Bruce hated to admit it, Harley was right about giving J’s little bottom some air to help his diaper rash heal. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Bruce enjoyed seeing his baby’s cute little bubble butt on display.

“Just hold your horses, little man. Dinner will be ready in a jiffy.” Bruce replied with a chuckle, turning back to the stove and shutting off the burner.

“K, Daddy,” J said, holding Bear with both hands and making him do a little dance on the countertop. Bruce was humming happily to himself, as he pulled the plates from the cabinet and started dishing out their meal. Much of his guilt from his atrocious behavior in the bedroom had been assuaged by J’s behavior afterward. J had not appeared traumatized. Instead, he had picked up on Bruce’s distress and sought to comfort him.

Bruce interpreted this as a clear sign of empathy, a trait he had never seen the Clown Prince of Crime display. Sure, he had seen the man make sham or sarcastic shows of sympathy, but he was confident J’s actions had been sincere. _This is a big step forward_ , Bruce told himself. _If he develops the ability to feel empathy and remorse, rehabilitation won’t be far behind._

With these hopeful thoughts bubbling around in his brain, Bruce carried their plates to the counter and took the seat beside J. Bruce deftly grabbed the teddy bear and sat him on the counter out of J’s reach. J hardly noticed, snatching a piece of frank off his plate and shoving it into his mouth.

“Yum yum!” J exclaimed around a mouthful of food. Bruce jumped up and grabbed a kitchen towel.

“No, sweetheart, that’s not how we eat.” Bruce said, wiping J’s sticky fingers. “Here, you hold teddy and daddy will feed you.” Bruce handed him the toy and grabbed a spoon. J hugged the teddy to his chest and eagerly opened his mouth, taking the spoonful of food Bruce offered. “Wow, you are hungry aren’t you.” Bruce chuckled, putting more food on the spoon. “But that’s good. You could use a little more meat on those bones.”

J looked up at Bruce with shining, happy eyes and bulging cheeks, as he chewed. The sight of his cheerful face filled Bruce with a rush of contentment. Taking care of someone in need had always been Bruce’s soft spot.

The busy day had whet both their appetites and they each gobbled up two plates of food before they were full. Bruce sat back in his chair, patting his distended belly. The nudge at his midsection made Bruce aware of the weight in his bladder. He quickly stood up and grabbed J by the armpits, lifting him from his chair.

“Time to go potty.” Bruce announced, carrying J off toward the bathroom. Once there, he set J on the toilet and tucked his penis beneath the seat. He smiled at the sound of urine hitting the porcelain and took a face towel from the rack, wetting it in the sink. “That’s my good little boy!” Bruce said, grinning from ear-to-ear, as he wiped off J’s messy face.

“J good bay-bay!” J cheerfully replied, his smiling face beaming.

“Yes, you are!” Bruce gave him a pat on the head, rustling his wavy green locks. Bruce waited a few minutes, making sure nothing else was going to come out. “OK, now it’s daddy’s turn.” He gave J’s pee pee a little shake and lifted him to his feet. J only stayed on his feet for a second, before plopping down on the floor next to the toilet. Bruce lifted the commode seat and unzipped his fly, pulling out his penis.

“Ahhhh,” Bruce sighed, closing his eyes and releasing his stream. It hit the toilet water with a loud hiss. 

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

J watched the golden liquid bursting from his daddy’s cock. He licked his lips, wondering if he could drink from daddy the way he’d drank from Nanny Lee. His hand shot out, intercepting the heated flow. Urine splashed everywhere. His daddy stopped peeing mid-stream, grabbing J’s wrist.

“No, don’t do that!” daddy shouted. J didn’t understand why Da Da was upset. He just wanted to taste daddy’s yellow milk. J pulled his dripping hand to his face and licked his palm. He heard daddy gasp and he looked up at his startled face.

“Tirsty Daddy!” J whined, reaching for his daddy’s wee wee. He wanted more. He liked the strong, acrid taste. Unbeknownst to baby J, the same chemicals that had bleached his skin white, had also seared his taste buds, giving him an appetite for intense, bitter flavors. 

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Bruce stared wide-eyed, his mouth gaping, as J grabbed his cock and stuffed the glans in his mouth. Bruce knew he should pull away, but the sight of those bright red lips wrapped around the tip of his cock had his head swimming and he couldn’t move a muscle. The lips tightened around him, sucking. J teased his slit with his tongue. The delightful sensation caught Bruce off guard and a small spurt of urine jumped from his dick.

Bruce expected J to spit out his piss in disgust. Instead, J hummed happily, as the pee filled his mouth; his adam apple bobbing, as the hot liquid flowed down his gullet. Bruce’s cock twitched, his breathing growing heavy. His piss kink clicking his arousal on, like a light switch. J whined, his lips tugging at Bruce’s glans. _He wants more!_ Bruce realized, his moral compass spinning madly. He knew he should end this. He opened his mouth to say stop, but before the word could escape there was another tug at his shaft. 

“Mo’! Gimme mo’.” J mumbled around Bruce’s cock.

Bruce was dizzy with desire. He longed for his baby to nurse from his cock…to drink from his pee hole. He imagined his baby’s belly bulging, full of his piss. Unable to deny his burning need, he released another spurt of urine. J’s cheeks ballooned, then hollowed. His baby’s neck flexed, as he swallowed. Bruce imagined he could see the piss flowing down his throat. His dick throbbed at the thought.

Bruce inhaled sharply, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding in his chest, his body thrumming with excitement. This was it; his deepest, darkest fantasy finally being fulfilled. There was nothing as beautiful as seeing his sweet, precious darling drinking from his cock.

There was another tug at his penis. He looked down at J, his red lips still clasped around him, his pleading eyes begging for more. Bruce’s cock was so hard, he doubted he could pee. He shut his eyes, forcing his breathing to slow, willing his cock to deflate. He focused his mind on the weight in his bladder…and pushed.

 _Fuck!_ Bruce’s piss rushed out harder than he intended. J’s cheeks swelled, rivulets of urine flowing from the corners of his mouth and rolling down his chin. Bruce’s cock throbbed at the sight of his piss dripping from his baby’s face.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Urine gushed into J’s mouth, escaping his lips and cascading down his face. J gulped what he could, savoring the tangy, robust flavor. _Daddy’s milk is delicious._ J hummed, grateful for every hot, tasty drop. He wished that he had been able to capture it all, yet he enjoyed the sensation of the warm wetness spilling down his jaw and the sound of the droplets pitter-pattering to the floor. Daddy placed his hand on his cheek, looking down at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. J’s heart swelled. He suckled at the fleshy tip, relishing the feel of its weight on his tongue. Daddy moaned; it was a beautiful sound. He sucked harder, hungry for more of his daddy’s special milk. _Daddy has the best milk in the world!_

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Bruce stood there, mesmerized by the bright red lips clenching around the head of his cock, as if begging for more. Bruce could not deny him, and he pushed, the final drops dribbling into J’s mouth. The need to piss extinguished, Bruce’s cock swelled, growing rock hard between J’s lips. Bruce, aroused beyond reason, grabbed his shaft, pumping vigorously. The force of his strokes nearly dislodging his cock from J’s lips. J clamped around him tighter, seemingly determined not to let him slip away. 

He suckled sweetly on Bruce’s cock, like a baby at his mother’s teat. The innocent, childlike, almost worshipful treatment of his manhood excited Bruce to even greater heights. His baby’s titillating little kitten licks sending electrifying swells of pleasure crackling through his cock. A deep moan rumbled from Bruce’s throat, his eyes rolling back into his head. Exhilarated by the intensity of the sensations rippling through his body, he panted like a sprinter making a mad dash for the finish line.

Bruce’s entire body was aflame, climbing toward its climax, as he furiously stroked his blood engorged rod. Bruce howled as he came, the force of his orgasm ripping through his body like a tsunami. His knees almost buckled, as his seed surged forth, wave after breathtaking wave. J eagerly gulped down his release, his frenzied sucking sending fresh surges of pleasure to Bruce’s pulsing penis. Bruce grabbed onto the sink to stabilize his swaying body, his breath leaving his lungs in hard huffs. He placed his hand on J’s cheek, as his softening penis slid from his baby’s lips. 

“Daddy’s good little boy.” He whispered hoarsely, planting a kiss on J’s forehead. His baby's eyes glowed with joy at the praise. He lifted his little darling into his arms and carried him into the bedroom. He laid his little lover down on the bed and eased beside him, kissing his moist, red lips.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Brimming with bliss, Baby J melted under his daddy’s gentle kisses. He hummed with happiness, as daddy’s mouth trailed down his neck, warm and whisper soft. Daddy lifted J’s shirt, his strong hands traveling up and down his torso, pausing to kiss his round, piss-filled belly. A choked cry slipped from his lips as daddy’s mouth touched his nipple. Daddy’s mouth was hot and wet as it sucked his tiny nub of flesh, sending the sweetest shivers down his spine. J’s wee wee began to harden, as daddy’s touches made his body all warm and tingly.

J reached down and touched himself. His back arching off the bed as daddy’s hand wrapped around his, giving his wee wee a firm squeeze. Happy noises bubbled from his throat, as daddy’s mouth closed around his wienie. Daddy made magic, his mouth sliding down, making his wee wee disappear. J’s toes curled, the most wonderful feeling coursing through his body. 

Daddy’s slippery finger touched his boo-boo, cool and wet to the touch. His little pucker clenched at the chill but relaxed as daddy’s lubed finger patiently circled his rim getting it warm and wet. J squeaked, as daddy’s finger slipped inside him. The finger slowly snaked deeper into his hot, tight canal. J gasped, as the finger touched a sensitive spot deep inside him. Daddy massaged the sweet spot. Baby J babbled incoherently, the pleasurable sensations building inside him, growing stronger, more intense. Daddy’s head bobbed up and down his weeping willy, his mouth making wet, slurpy sounds with every thrilling thrust. The twin sensations bombarding baby J from both the front and back, were beyond sublime, catapulting J over the edge. 

J’s mouth opened in a silent scream, his entire body going rigid. Blinding white lights flashed behind his eyes. Pleasure-filled pulses, like a barrage of fireworks, shot through his body. He shook uncontrollably, as his thick, creamy load surged down his daddy’s throat. 

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Bruce hungrily sucked his baby dry, poking at his prostate to coax out every drop. He slowly lifted his head, licking a stray drop from his lips, as he carefully removed his finger. J laid limply beneath him, his eyes closed and chest rapidly rising and falling. He pulled his baby into his arms, cradling him gently. They drifted off into dreamland together…happy…sated and wrapped in love’s warm embrace.

Bruce woke up an hour later, his baby still sleeping peacefully at his side. His mind was in turmoil. _I used his mouth as a urinal!_ He silently lamented. _I’m a dirty, disgusting pervert._ _I wonder if he’ll wake up hating me. Doesn’t matter, I hate me enough for both of us._

He walked over to the bedroom’s patio door. The night sky was filled with stars. Far more than he could ever see in Gotham’s light-polluted skies. The sight was oddly calming. _Maybe he’ll be able to forgive me. After all, he did ask for more._ Bruce’s dick twitched a bit at the thought. _Maybe we’re both just fucked up enough to be made for each other._ A wry grin crossed his face.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Bruce was staring out into the dark night when the Joker’s eyes flickered open behind him. The Joker remembered every delightfully dark detail of their earlier exploits, while he was baby J. The Joker licked his lips. _Who’da thunk it, Batsy’s a freak for piss play. A man after my own heart._ A wide smile spread across his face.

“Da Da.” The Joker whined, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with his fists. Bruce turned at the sound.

“J, you’re awake.” J immediately picked up on the anxiety in Bruce’s voice. It was echoed in his nervous smile and the tiny crease between his eyebrows. The villain blinked, somewhat confused by his reaction to Bruce’s obviously troubled state. _I should be happy, seeing him ashamed and beating himself up with guilt. But I’m not. It’s odd, I don’t enjoy seeing him in pain. Why do I feel compelled to comfort him?_ The Joker was unfamiliar with the new emotions tugging at his heart strings. It frightened him.

The Joker’s inner turmoil must have been evident on his face because Bruce looked down at the floor, biting his lip. “I’m sorry baby. I should never have used you like that. It was wrong.” He raised his head and looked at J. “I lost control. I need to keep a tighter rein on my desires. It’s..it’s just hard sometimes. When I look at you…when you touch me…” Bruce’s voice faltered. The pain in his words hit the Joker like a gut punch.

“Da Da.” The Joker cried out softly, his outstretched arms beckoning Bruce closer. Bruce approached J hesitantly, seemingly afraid of being rebuffed. The Joker rose to his knees, making grabby hands in Bruce’s direction. Bruce seemed to respond to the gesture, some of the pain and uncertainty fading from his face. The bed dipped, as Bruce kneeled on the edge and pulled the Joker into his arms.

“I’m sorry baby.” Bruce said, burying his face in the crook of his archenemy’s neck. “I never wanted to hurt you.” Bruce tightened his embrace.

“Wuv you daddy!” the Joker responded, hoping his baby-voice was convincing. He smiled, as he felt some of the tension draining from Bruce’s shoulders.

“I love you too baby.” The sincerity in Bruce’s voice was clear. The villain’s heart melted; he’d never been happier.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Two days later, in Gotham City…

Ivy placed a cigar box-sized parcel, on the coffee table, in front of the couch where Harley was sitting. Ivy stood up, placing her hands on her hips.

“I don’t know why I’m helping you with this.” Ivy said, pursing her lips.

“Because you’re my best friend in the world!” Harley exclaimed, jumping to her feet and leaning across the table to give Ivy a big hug. Ivy stood as still as a statue, looking away and rolling her eyes. “Aww, don’t be like that,” Harley cooed, a pretty pout on her lips. Something about that look always made Ivy weak and the redhead sighed, returning Harley’s embrace. 

“I just don’t understand why you can’t leave well enough alone.” Ivy said, breaking the embrace and folding her arms. “This treatment is supposed to cure him. I remember a time when that was what you wanted.”

“I still want it!” Harley retorted, her brow furrowing. “I just don’t trust that billionaire buffoon Bruce Wayne to get it right. If he had Mr. J’s best interests at heart, why would he run off and take him God knows where.”

“Probably to stop you from doing what you’re planning right now.” Harley hmphed in reply, pulling out a knife and slitting the tape on the top of the box. She glanced up at Ivy.

“Are you sure this thing can locate a cell phone’s signal, even when the phone is turned off?”

“That’s what Eddie said.”

“You trust him?” Harley smirked, raising an eyebrow. Ivy shrugged.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out. And if he’s lying, I’ve got a vine with his name on it.” They both laughed, the sound lighting the room with a jovial glow.


	9. Chapter 9

At the cabin in Colorado…

The snow floated down in fat, wet flakes, the temperature hovering around freezing. Lil’ J held his mouth open, catching snowflakes on his tongue. Bruce watched the flakes melting, as they touched J’s warm flesh. His baby’s wide, flat tongue glistened under the early afternoon sun. A shiver ran through Bruce’s body, images of that pretty pink tongue, covered in white stripes of cum, rising to his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut. _No! I mustn’t think such things!_ He told himself.

Bruce had been doing so good the last two days. Locking the door when he went to the bathroom to pee. Quickly, efficiently changing J’s diapers without any lingering gazes or inappropriate touches. The dark-haired man silently prayed that his resolve would remain firm. But deep down inside, he knew it was faltering. _Get back to task!_ He silently chided himself, lifting a soccer ball-sized sphere of snow and placing it atop two larger balls of snow.

Baby J clapped his hands, bouncing excitedly, as Bruce put the head on Mr. Frosty. J giggled gleefully, his breath forming clouds, as daddy gave the snowman big black eyes made of coal and a bright orange carrot nose.

“Hat, daddy!” J waved a tattered old cowboy hat in the chilly, almost freezing air. Bruce took the hat from his hand and plopped it atop the snowman’s head. He took a step back, putting his hands on his hips and admiring his creation. J flung his arms around his daddy’s waist and gave him a big hug. “Mista Fostee bootiful daddy!” Bruce returned the hug, rubbing J’s back and grinning so hard his cheeks hurt.

“Yes, he is.” Bruce looked at J’s face, his cheeks bright and rosy from the cold. “I think it’s time to go in and get warm.” J grunted, making a pouty face. “Don’t worry, Mr. Frosty isn’t going anywhere. We can watch him from the window, inside where it’s nice and toasty.” Bruce shepherded J back into the cabin.

An hour later…

Bruce sat back comfortably on the extra-long recliner sofa in the family room, his feet propped up on the footrest. J was curled up on the couch next to him, his head resting on Bruce’s lap. Bruce’s fingers lazily stroked J’s hair, as they both watched The Lion King on the large flat screen TV. Bruce was near dozing off, his eyes popping open, as fingers dug into his thighs and whimpers reached his ears.

“No wanna see!” J cried, burying his face in Bruce’s thigh. “Scawy!” Bruce glanced up at the TV just in time to see Scar digging his claws into Simba’s dad and letting him drop into the horde of stampeding wildebeests.

“It’s OK baby, you don’t have to look.” Bruce said softly, his hand rubbing J’s back, as his baby’s tears wet his lap. J’s whimpers gradually quieted and he looked up at his daddy with red-rimmed eyes.

“Simma daddy die.” The despair in his baby’s voice made Bruce’s chest clench. He leaned over, pulling his crying boy into his arms. “It’s OK sweetie, it’s just a movie. Simba’s daddy didn’t really die.” He hugged his baby, rocking him gently. He placed his hand on the back of J’s head, letting his little fella’s face rest in the crook of his neck and shielding him from the saddest part of the movie, when Simba found his father’s dead body. Bruce grabbed the remote, flicking off the TV. He didn’t want to see it either, mentally kicking himself for choosing the movie.

“Don’ wont you ta die daddy.” J whimpered; his words muffled, as he spoke into the fabric of Bruce’s shirt.

“Don’t worry baby, daddy’s not going to die.” Bruce replied, deciding that now was one of those times when telling a lie wasn’t wrong. J looked up at Bruce, his bottom lip trembling. He cupped his hand around Bruce’s ear and whispered.

“Bad man wanna hurt you.” J whispered, immediately ducking his head back into the crook of Bruce’s neck. Bruce’s brow furrowed at his words, as his arms tightened around the baby in his lap. _What is he talking about?_

“Bad man?” Bruce asked, his voice soft and tentative. _Do I really want to know?_

“Uh huh.” J sniffed, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Da badman dat laffs.” Bruce’s eyes widened; his hidden fear confirmed. The Joker was still inside his baby, tormenting his sweet little darling, who sat trembling in his arms. Bruce kissed his forehead, stroking his little man’s back with soothing circles. J whimpered softly; his face buried in the crook of Bruce’s neck. “Make him go away daddy. He scarwy.”

“Shh, baby, daddy’s right here to protect you.” Bruce prayed he wasn’t lying again. _Can I really protect him from himself?_ Bruce wondered. He took a deep breath, mentally steeling himself. _I’ll just need to find a way._ He decided, his lips tight and jaw set firm. “C’mon baby, let’s get you a bottle and we can settle down and take a nap together.” Bruce made sure his voice was soft and comforting, despite his inner turmoil. 

He stood up, holding J in his arms. J helped, shifting his weight and wrapping his legs around Bruce’s waist. Bruce grinned, giving him a pat on the butt. He carried him up the spiral staircase, through the living room and into the adjoining kitchen. He pulled a juice-filled, baby bottle from the refrigerator, the cold bottle chilly against his warm hand. He repositioned J on his hip and carried him into the bedroom. Bruce’s distraught little boy clung to him the entire time and whimpered as he sat him down on the bed. Bruce climbed into the bed, his back resting on the headboard. He opened his arms, beckoning J to join him. J crawled over and laid beside him, his head resting on Bruce’s thigh. Bruce placed the bottle at his lips. J slapped the bottle away and it rolled across the comforter. Bruce’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Want daddy milk!” J whined; his cheek nuzzling Bruce’s boxer covered crouch. Bruce’s mouth fell open and he was temporarily stunned into silence. He swallowed dryly, unsure of how to respond. He took a deep breath and picked up the bottle, waving it in front of J’s face.

“It’s apple juice, honey, your favorite.” Bruce said, his cajoling voice somewhat shaky. He nudged the nipple against J’s lips. His baby turned away, burying his face in Bruce’s crouch.

“No! Daddy milk bedda.” J half-mumbled, half-whined, his face pressing down on Bruce’s cotton boxers. He looked up at his daddy, his bottom lip wobbly. “Need daddy milk.” He reached around Bruce’s waist hugging him tightly. “Pwease daddy.” He begged, tears shining in his eyes. Bruce’s heart was racing, his mind torn by indecision. He slowly shook his head.

“No baby, it’s not right.” Bruce said, gently placing his hand on J’s cheek, his little man’s tears warm and wet on his palm.

“PWEASE DADDY!” J wailed, clutching the fabric of Bruce’s boxers, and yanking weakly. “Need daddy milk. Keep badman away!” Bruce gasped at this new revelation. His determination wavered. He didn’t want to lose his precious baby. The Dr. Einstein had explained it was important for the Joker to remain in his innocent, childlike state for at least a month, if the therapy was going to have any chance of success. Bruce had sacrificed a lot for this. He’d left Gotham City unguarded, taken time off work, strained his relationship with Alfred. _Failure is not an option,_ he decided. _This must work!_

Bruce’s hand was trembling, his fingers slowly moving to his fly. He pulled out his flaccid penis, letting it fall limply atop his boxers. His breath hitched, as a set of bright red lips closed around the tip of his cock. A subtle shudder traveled through Bruce’s body. The mouth wrapped around him was warm, wet, and wondrous. There was a gentle tug at his glans, J glanced up at him with expectant eyes. J suckled softly, his lips slowly clenching and unclenching, his eyes silently pleading. Bruce couldn’t look away; the sight was mesmerizing. His heart was pounding, a bead of perspiration rolling down his forehead. He took a deep breath, as he tried to relax his body.

“I can’t do this.” Bruce whispered, shaking his head. J appeared not to hear him, resting his head on Bruce’s thigh, and closing his eyes, as he continued to suckle. Bruce leaned back against the headboard, his eyelids dropping. The soft rhythmic suction around the head of his penis was simultaneously soothing and exhilarating. His respiration and heart rate quickened, his body responding. Bruce forced himself to relax. _This isn’t about sex_ , he told himself _._ He was a papa bear, protecting his cub. He would keep his baby safe at all costs.

Bruce placed his hand on J’s cheek, his baby’s jaw muscles slowly moving beneath his fingertips. His baby needed him, needed his milk to stay strong. He wondered if he had anything to give. He’d emptied his bladder less than an hour ago. He closed his eyes and pushed. Bruce moaned, letting go felt marvelous.

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

“Mmmm.” Lil’ J hummed, as the warm fluid flowed into his mouth. The strong rich flavor coated his tongue and filled his cheeks. He drank quickly, unwilling to miss a single drop. A soothing warmth spread through his body, as daddy’s sweet milk travelled down his throat and filled his belly. The hushed sound of his gentle gulps filled the room, as he swallowed. Daddy’s fingers weaved through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp, as he nursed. 

“Ahh, that’s daddy’s good boy,” Bruce whispered breathlessly. J’s chest tightened at the praise; his heart swelling with joy. Daddy fed him with a slow, steady stream, careful not to overwhelm baby with his flow. His little mouth can only take so much and daddy always paused to let him swallow. He had the best daddy in the world. Caring for him…feeding him…loving him. The scary voice that murmured at the fringes of his mind, was finally silent. J felt safe…protected…cherished.

As the flow dwindled to a trickle and ended, he added a bit of extra suction, drawing out a few more hot and tasty drops. The feeding left his body loose and boneless, his lips still wrapped around his daddy’s perfect, mushroom-shaped nipple. He adored the feeling of his daddy’s special ba ba, warm and cradled in his mouth. He suckled softly, floating blissfully in the tranquil sea of his daddy’s love. 

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Bruce smiled as he glanced down at his precious baby. He wished his bladder had been fuller. The feeding had ended far too soon. The twin sensations of the urine traveling down his urethra and the sweet suction of his baby’s mouth on his glans, combined to create an exhilarating, almost otherworldly experience. Bruce would definitely be having several tall glasses of water with dinner tonight, _just in case._

Although Bruce had finished peeing, baby’s bright red lips continued to twitch around him, as he used his daddy’s penis like a pacifier. The soft smacking, of J’s lips, could be heard clearly in the otherwise quiet room. Bruce was comforted by the sound and the gentle tugs that accompanied it. Bruce savored their intimate moment together, contentment washing over him in warm, soft waves. 

The sucking gradually stopped, and Bruce realized his little darling had fallen asleep. Seeing his baby so peaceful and content, erased any doubts Bruce had about what he had done. His actions had calmed his troubled child and that was all that mattered. A part of him wished they could stay like this forever; his cock being warmed in the sweet embrace of his baby’s lovely little cheeks. He sighed, closing his eyes, and making a promise to himself. _I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my beautiful baby boy!_

✴❊❊❈❊❊✴

Meanwhile back in Gotham City…

“Dammit!” Harley growled. “This thing’s useless!” she threw the small handheld tracking device on the coffee table. Ivy walked into the living room.

“Are you sure you’re doing it right?” Ivy asked, approaching the sofa, and looking down at Harley.

“How the hell should I know? This thing didn’t come with any instructions.” Harley complained, clenching her fists, and furrowing her brow. Ivy leaned over, reaching for the device, and stopped, something on Harley’s chest catching her eye.

“What’s that on your top?” Ivy asked, staring at two, circular wet spots, on the fabric directly above Harley’s nipples. Harley looked down, following her eyes.

“OH SHIT!” Harley exclaimed. “I sprung a leak. I forgot to pump this morning.”

“Why would you need to pump your breasts?” Ivy asked, raising her eyebrows. Then she put her hands on her hips and gave Harley a stern look. “Oh God! Don’t tell me you let that crazy clown knock you up!”

“No, I’m not pregnant.” Harley replied, rolling her eyes. “I’m just lactating.” She looked down, avoiding Ivy’s gaze. She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding the stains.

“Lactating? Why are you lactating?” Ivy asked, her face a mix of concern and confusion. “Have you seen a doctor about it?”

“I don’t need a doctor.” Harley huffed, pursing her lips. Ivy opened her mouth about to speak, but Harley cut her off with a loud sigh, her shoulders slumping. “I took some pills to induce lactation.”

“Why? Why on earth would you do that?”

“I was going to be Mistah J’s wet nurse.” Harley whined with pouty lips, abruptly standing up, her arms still folded across her breasts. “I need to go clean up,” Harley added, intentionally walking the long way around the cocktail table to avoid Ivy’s glaring eyes. She quickly darted out of the room, heading for the bathroom.

Harley looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and grimaced at the prominent stains on her jester suit. She reached behind her to pull down the zipper, as Ivy walked into the small room.

“Let me help,” Ivy said, pulling the zipper down. Harley nodded mutely, allowing Ivy to pull the suit down off her shoulders, exposing her bra and the plump, milk-filled boobies, straining against the bra’s drenched cups. “I can throw your bra and the suit in the washer. It shouldn’t take that long to wash and dry.” Ivy offered, pulling the garment down over her hips. Harley took off her bra, her lush breasts falling free. She looked down at Ivy, who was pulling the jumpsuit down to her ankles. She placed her hand on Ivy’s shoulder.

“Thanks Red, but I can take it from here. I know the way to the laundry room.”

“Just let me help you.” Ivy said, a trace of exasperation in her voice. Ivy got down on her knees. “Lift your foot so I can get this thing off.” Harley complied, lifting one foot at a time, as Ivy removed the garment. Ivy scooped the bra and suit into her arms, standing up. Her eyes lingered on Harley’s bodacious breasts, large and bulging with milk. Harley noticed her looking and chuckled.

“They’re quite a sight to behold, aren’t they?” Harley giggled nervously. She looked down at her breasts, cupping them in her hands and lifting them, like large, ripe cantaloupes. “They’ve never been this big before.” Ivy was still staring at them, the tip of her tongue absently traveling across her bottom lip. Harley noticed and smiled. “Gee Red, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you want a taste.” There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes as she speaks. Ivy quickly looked away, her cheeks growing red.

“L—Let me get this stuff in the washer.” Ivy stammered, clutching the wet clothes to her chest, and rushing from the room. Harley watched her leave, grinning from ear-to-ear. Harley turned the hot water on in the sink and let it run, while she grabbed a couple of face cloths from the rack. She dropped them beneath the spray of hot water and waited until they were thoroughly drenched, before turning off the spigot. She squeezed the excess water from the rags and placed them over her nipples, keeping them in place with her hands.

“Aaahh!” she sighed loudly, the heated cloths instantly causing her breasts to leak. Still holding the face rags in place, she walked out of the bathroom and into Ivy’s bedroom and sat on the bed. She was wearing nothing but a thong and didn’t want to go back into the living room with its large picture window. She scooted up on the bed, laying her head on the pillow. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, luxuriating in the soothing warmth plastered against her too full, seeping breasts. 

_God, I wish I had my breast pump._ She silently grumbled. She closed her eyes, despite knowing she’d need to get up in a minute, if she didn’t want to get breast milk on Ivy’s pristine comforter. Moments later, the bed dipped, and Harley’s eyes popped open to see Ivy crawling into the bed beside her. Ivy placed her hand over the cloth on Harley’s right breast. The air in the room was thick with Ivy’s pheromones, but Ivy wasn’t doing it on purpose. It happened naturally, whenever she was sexually aroused.

“Let me help with that?” Ivy whispered hoarsely, a hesitant plea in her voice. Harley nodded; a bit too choked up to speak. Ivy slid the cloth off her breast, exposing a dusty pink, milk-wettened nipple. Harley gasped, as Ivy’s luscious lips closed around it. They felt cool on her skin and Harley realized she had probably developed a slight fever from failing to pump regularly. The thought was quickly whisked away by the exquisite pressure of Ivy’s mouth moving on her breast.

A delicious shiver travelled down Harley’s spine, as Ivy began to nurse. Harley inhaled sharply, her milk ducts releasing a hot torrent of creamy goodness into Ivy’s waiting mouth. Harley was flooded with relief, as the tightness in her breast gradually eased. Ivy drank from her wantonly, like a man dying of thirst. A muffled glucking sound reached Harley’s ears every time Ivy gulped down another mouthful. Hearing it gave Harley an odd sense of satisfaction.

Not much later, Ivy switched over to Harley’s left breast, which was already leaking profusely. Ivy latched on and continued to drink with abandon, surprising Harley with her hardy appetite. Mind you, she wasn’t complaining. Her right breast felt immeasurably better, the nipple tingly and tender from all the attention lavished upon it. 

It might have been the pheromones, or it might have been the magic Ivy was making with her mouth, but Harley’s flimsy little thong wasn’t enough to capture the juices flowing from her cunt and wetting her upper thighs. She reached down, moving the thong to the side, and touching herself. Her breath quickened. A soft moan rolled from Harley’s lips. Ivy began sucking harder, digging her fingers into Harley’s breast, forcing more milk to be released. Harley’s moans grew louder and more high-pitched, her hand moving frantically between her legs. 

Ivy released her nipple and sat up on her heels, breathing hard, as she watched Harley pleasuring herself. She leaned back over Harley’s body and kissed her abdomen. She continued kissing there, her lips gradually moving downward. She covered Harley’s hand with her own and gently moved it to the side. She glanced up at Harley’s flushed face and Harley bit her lip, nodding slowly.

Ivy gazed at Harley’s wet, shimmering folds. The blonde’s clit was red and swollen, peeking out from its shiny foreskin. Ivy ducked her head down and took the nub of flesh into her mouth. Harley shivered beneath her, gasping. Ivy licked at her clit, her tongue moving in circles over the heated bead of flesh.

“Oh Red!” Harley moaned, grabbing a handful of Ivy’s hair and holding her head in place, as she thrust up into her mouth. Ivy’s tongue moved faster, alternating between sucks and tongue flicks, as she worked over Harley’s clit. Harley writhed on the bed beneath her, shoving her pussy against Ivy’s lips and grunting loudly. The succulent bead of flesh swelled, pulsing as more blood flowed to the region. Harley panted, her hips gyrating wildly against Ivy’s mouth. “F—Fuck!” Harley groaned, sweat-wettened strands of hair plastered to her face.

The titillating tingles between Harley’s legs intensified, building toward a crescendo, as Ivy sucked and licked and gnawed at her throbbing core. Harley was babbling incoherently in a chaotic mix of moans, grunts, and curse words. Then she screamed.

“IVYYY!” Harley’s body shook uncontrollably, her orgasm ripping through her like a sharpened blade. The redhead smiled at the sound, redoubling her efforts, sucking hard and frantically on Harley’s pulsating clit, intensifying and elongating the ripples of pleasure bombarding the blonde’s body.

Harley’s quivering body gradually stilled, and Ivy lifted her mouth, her lips and chin wet and glistening. Harley laid back limply on the bed, panting softly, her eyes closed. Ivy looked down at her with adoration-filled eyes. She worriedly bit her lip.

In the living room, a vine slithered across the coffee table and winded around the cellphone tracking device. The vine tightened around the tracker’s plastic housing. A crunchy, crackling sound, no one was near enough to hear, echoed through the room. The vine slithered back to its pot, leaving the tracker in pieces on the tabletop. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear from you. I post here with the hope of improving my writing. So, constructive criticism is also welcome.


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